A chill passed over her shoulders and she shivered. She felt alone, with the rest of the family asleep, and a little bit afraid. I wish I could tell Daddy about the flashing lights, she thought. But he’d call the police and my investigation would be over before it even started! Tina will be here early. We’re going to find out what’s going on at the Johnson place.
CHAPTER THREE
The door squeaked. Someone was in her bedroom. Jessie lay very still and listened. A floorboard creaked. Her ear picked up rapid breathing and a slight rustle of paper.
She opened her eyes—just a slit—and looked in the direction of the doorway. The morning sun surprised her. Her eyes opened wide when she spied Phillip’s back hunched down low. He was digging through her detective box.
“NO, PHILLIP!” she screamed.
He jumped up and ran crying from the room.
Uh-oh, thought Jessie. She scrambled out of bed, grabbed the carton and set it on her desk. Then she raced after Phillip. Jessie found the toddler down the hall in her parents’ bedroom, sobbing on her mother’s shoulder.
“Honestly, Jessie,” said her mom with annoyance. “You scared him to death. You don’t have to shout at him. I’m sure everyone on the block heard you.”
Phillip toned down his crying while his mother scolded Jessie. He turned his head toward his sister, with his hands over his face.
Jessie could see blue eyes, bright with tears, peeking through little fingers spread out like stars. “But, Mom! He was in my detective stuff!” argued Jessie.
“I told you—keep your door closed. You are not to shout at him,” said her mother. “Now say you’re sorry, Jess.”
Jessie held out her arms to Phillip. “I’m sorry I yelled at you, Phillip.”
He jerked away and buried his face in his mother’s neck.
She pulled back and studied him. “I see a little smile,” his mom said. “Jessie says she’s sorry, Phillip. Sit on her lap while I finish getting ready.”
Phillip went to his sister’s waiting arms and she gave him a bouncy ride on her outstretched leg.
Her mother stood in front of the mirror and pulled her hair into a clip at the back of her neck. She put on earrings and began to apply makeup.
“Going some place?” asked Jessie.
“I’ll be at Dad’s office today, while he’s in court. Mrs. Winter will be here to watch Phillip.” Mrs. Winter was an older neighbor who liked to baby-sit for extra money. “What are you up to today?”
“Tina’s coming over and we’re going to work with my kit,” Jessie said. “I’d better get dressed.”
“Eat something,” her mom called after her. “And tell Mrs. Winter if you go somewhere.”
“Okay,” said Jessie. At the doorway, she turned and waved at Phillip. He stuck out his tongue. She glanced at her mom. Good. Mom didn’t see him. She hurried to her room and closed the door.
* * *
Jessie sat on the front porch steps with the detective kit beside her and watched Tina pedal up Willow Lane. At the Hanson yard, she got off her bike, walked it under a big maple tree and toed down the kickstand.
Jessie studied her friend as she crossed the lawn. Tina’s dark hair shone in the morning sun. She wore navy blue shorts and a white tee shirt. Tina always looks totally laundered, thought Jessie. The whitest shirt, the smoothest shorts. Her own shirt usually needed tucking in and her hair constantly popped out of her braid. And Tina was such a tiny little thing. That’s probably why everyone likes her. They think she needs protecting. What a laugh!
“Hi.” Tina sat down next to Jessie. “Sorry I’m late. My mom picked today to talk about all the stuff we have to do before school starts.”
“Don’t you hate it when they want to organize you?” Jessie groaned. “Thank goodness my folks had Phillip. Between him and working at the office, they haven’t time to fuss about me the way they used to.” She raised her arms in a gesture of thanks.
“I cannot believe you got that lucky. Being an only child is the worst!” Tina rolled her eyes.
While Tina talked, Jessie examined the detective kit. It was around two feet square and made of cardboard that looked like canvas. The handle on top turned it into a small suitcase.
“Let’s get to work.” She began laying out the contents of the kit.
Tina picked up the instruction book and started to read. “Here’s a list of all the things that should be in the case,” she said. “Tell me what’s there and I’ll check it off. Hand me that pencil.”
“Look,” said Jessie. “It has little pockets and a diagram to show where everything goes. Okay. Pocket watch, clipboard, pens, pencils, chalk—are you checking them off?”
“Uh huh.”
“Hey, cotton gloves. Wonder what they’re for.” Jessie tried them on. “Pretty good fit.”
“I’ll bet they’re for handling evidence at the scene of the crime,” Tina said. She giggled.
“Don’t you love this?” said Jessie. “It’s a good thing we’ve read all those mysteries and seen lots of spy movies.” She went back to the kit. “Okay, back to work. Will you look at this tiny little camera? And two rolls of film.” She slipped film into the camera and stood up. “It’s so little, it fits into my jeans pocket!”
“It says here that it has a telephoto lens on it,” said Tina. “That means you can take a picture from far away but when the print’s developed, you’re able to see all the detail. Isn’t that great?”
“It has everything we need,” said Jessie. “Look—a bag of something for making a mold of a footprint. The label says ‘dental stone.’ Never heard of it. Here’s a flashlight. No batteries though.”
“We can ride downtown and get some. I have money from my allowance,” Tina said.
“Great. Look—tweezers, scissors, a hand mirror and little empty bottles. See how they fit into the pockets?” said Jessie.
“Perfect!” Tina said.
“Tina! It’s got a fingerprinting set! See—dark powder and white powder. Let’s try it.”
A big pot of geraniums, loaded with red blooms, sat on each step leading to the porch. They lifted one of the pots off its shiny black plate. Jessie pressed a thumb on the surface. “Okay. Read the instructions.”
Tina read aloud. “When the fingerprint is on something dark, you sprinkle a dab of white powder next to the print.”
“Okay, I sprinkled it on. Now what?”
“Then,” said Tina, “using the feather brush in the set, brush powder across the ‘latent’ print. The powder will cake in the oil of the print and make its pattern show up against the dark background.” She stopped reading and watched Jessie.
“Look at this! I can see every detail of my thumbprint. This is so cool!” laughed Jessie.
While the girls put away the contents of the kit, Jessie told Tina the story of C.G. Johnson and his wife, Alice. “My dad thinks there’s a Will somewhere, maybe hidden. Boy, I sure wish we could get into that house.”
“What house?” asked Tina. She was still reading the instructions.
“The Johnson house! Aren’t you listening to me?”
Tina looked up. “Now wait a minute. We’re not breaking into somebody’s house. Do you want to end up in jail?” Tina’s voice was rising and she looked scared.
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to do anything illegal.” She closed the clasp on the detective kit. “Let’s go down to the Square and get batteries.”
“Right,” said Tina.
“I want to stop at the library too” said Jessie. “Maybe they have information on the Johnsons. Doesn’t the library keep old newspapers forever?”
“I don’t know about ‘forever’,” said Tina. “We could ask Miss Tyler. She knows all there is to know about libraries.”
“Wait here. I’m supposed to tell Mrs. Winter where I’m going,” said Jessie. She ran into the house carrying the detective case. In the hall, at the top of the stairs, she found Mrs. Winter carefully closing Phillip’s bedroom door.
“Oh, sorry,” Jessie whispered. “Tina and I are going down to the Square and then to the library.”
“All right, dear,” whispered Mrs. Winter. “Be careful.”
In her bedroom, Jessie set the kit on her desk and pulled the camera from her jeans pocket. At the same moment, she glanced through her window at the Johnson house. A chill swept over her scalp. She moved closer to the glass and stayed very still. A man stood in the attic window of the Johnson house. He was looking down and watching Tina toe up the kickstand of her bike.
Jessie felt her heart pounding. Who is he? I’ll call Daddy. He’ll know what to do. Oh, No! Daddy’s in court. I’m on my own.
She looked down at the camera in her hand. Slowly she knelt on the window seat. Carefully, she steadied the camera on the sash. When she flipped the telephoto switch and looked in the viewfinder, she could see the man clearly. She pressed the button. The flashbulb went off.
The man turned slowly and looked right at Jessie holding the camera in her hand.
CHAPTER FOUR
That guy in the attic saw me, Jessie thought. Her hands trembled as she rewound the unused film. She popped it out, jammed it into her pocket and set the empty camera on the desk.
Downstairs, she called softly to Tina through the screen door.
Tina laid her bike on the grass and marched up the porch steps. “What’s going on? Let’s go.
“Quick. Get inside.” Jessie opened the screen door, grabbed Tina’s arm and pulled her into the house. “A man was watching you from Mr. Johnson’s attic,” Jessie whispered. “When I took a picture of him, the flash went off and he caught me holding the camera. I’m getting scared.”
Tina’s eyes were huge.
“This is the plan,” Jessie said. “We leave the bikes out in front and go downtown the back way.” She held up the film. “We can take this to the camera shop in the Square. I want that guy’s picture developed fast! I want my dad to see it.”
Tina nodded. “Let’s go!”
The girls raced through the house and out the back door. They sprinted across the lawn to the fields that bordered the back yards on Jessie’s block. Now, they ran fast. Jessie ignored the heat. She had one goal—to get the film to the camera shop.
* * *
On the Johnson porch across the street from Jessie’s house, a man stood quietly in the shadows. He watched the two girls run through the field. When they were out of sight, he crossed the street. He wore bib overalls and a blue shirt. A baseball cap, pulled down low, hid his eyes. And he walked with a limp.
At the Hanson house, the man climbed the steps and pressed the shiny black doorbell. Mrs. Winter appeared at the screen door. “Yes?” she said.
He looked down as he spoke. “Excuse me, ma’am. I’m here to measure the bedroom for the carpet you ordered.”
She looked puzzled. “I’m afraid I don’t know anything about this. I’m just babysitting. Mrs. Hanson’s not home and…”
His hand went to the door handle. “It’ll just take a minute. It sure would help if I didn’t have to make another trip.”
“Oh dear,” said Mrs. Winter. “Well, I guess it will be all right.” She opened the screen. “Which bedroom are you supposed to measure?”
The man stepped inside and pointed to the bedroom on the upper right hall—Jessie’s. “That one.” He started up the stairs.
“Wait! I’d better go with you,” said the sitter. “I wish Mrs. Hanson had told me you were coming today. Oh well. Let’s get it done.”
She passed him on the staircase and led the way. Just as they stepped into Jessie’s bedroom, the telephone rang.
“Go ahead and measure. I’ll get the phone.” She rushed to the telephone in the Hansons’ bedroom. “Hello? Oh, Mrs. Hanson. Yes, Phillip’s fine—asleep. And Jessie—oh, the man is here to measure for the carpeting in Jessie’s room…” She paused and listened. “Oh, dear. You didn’t order any carpeting? Yes. Hang on.”
She laid down the receiver and hurried to Jessie’s room. “Sir! Sir?” The room was empty. Through the window facing Willow Lane, Mrs. Winter saw the man limp to a green car parked at the curb. He got in and sped down the street.
The sitter rushed back to the phone. “Why, he’s gone, Mrs. Hanson! He just ran out and went racing down the street in a green car.”
She listened. “Well, I surely won’t do that again! It was foolish of me—letting a stranger into the house.” She listened. “No, the car was too far away to see the license number. Jessie and Tina went downtown about fifteen minutes ago. I hope they’re all right.”
She paused. “Don’t worry. I’ll check with you next time before I let anyone in. Oh, by the way, the man had a noticeable limp. Bye for now.” She hung up.
Mrs. Winter hurried to check on Phillip, who was still asleep. In Jessie’s bedroom, she looked for anything out of place. When she spied the camera lying open on the floor, she reassembled it and set it on Jessie’s desk.
Downstairs, she firmly hooked the front screen door. Then she hurried to the kitchen and did the same with the back door.
* * *
They couldn’t keep running. The girls slowed to a walk, turned a corner and headed to the center of town.
Courthouse Square was the hub of Fairfield. It held the library, the bandstand and the county courthouse. Shops and offices lined the four streets facing the Square. Jessie and Tina’s destination was Bergstrom’s Camera Corner.
A bell tinkled when they entered the shop. Photographs of babies and family groups hung in frames on the walls. Most of the faces in the pictures were familiar to the two girls. They leaned against the counter and tried to catch their breath.
Mr. Bergstrom appeared from the back room and frowned. “Here, here, girls,” he scolded. “Now look at my nice clean glass counter all covered with smudges.” He produced a spray bottle and a paper towel and began polishing the surface. Leaning over, he eyed the glass from a different angle, trying to eliminate the streaks.
What a crab, thought Jessie. Aren’t we his customers too? But she remembered her manners and said politely, “Hi, Mr. Bergstrom.”
He was silent as he rubbed the glass.
“Sorry about the smears,” she said. “We were wondering if you could help us out?”
Mr. Bergstrom put his spray bottle under the counter and turned to Jessie and Tina. “Maybe I can help. Tell me what you want.”
“We need a picture developed as soon as possible,” Tina said. “How fast could you do that?”
“We have an overnight service,” he said. “You could have it tomorrow at noon.”
Oh no, thought Jessie. Not a whole day.
Tina said, “I’ve seen some special developing you do right here in your dark room. Could you develop this one picture yourself? Just as a favor?”
Mr. Bergstrom looked at Tina. “All right. Your father took the trouble to come to our house in the middle of the night when the baby was sick. Not many doctors will do that anymore.” Mr. Bergstrom smiled at Tina and took the film. “You can pick it up in one hour.”
“Thank you!” chorused the girls. They left the shop, careful not to touch the sparkly clean glass door.
“Boy,” Jessie said. “I can never get over how you talk people into stuff.”
Tina laughed. “Just like my mom. Anyway that’s what my dad says.”
They crossed the street to the Square and walked on the brick path that led to the library. Along the way, people sat on freshly painted park benches, reading under the trees or talking in pairs. It was cool in the shade and a breeze ruffled the flowers in their beds.
Jessie and Tina ran up the wide stone steps of the library. On the broad cement parapets that lined the stairway, huge concrete lions lay guarding the entrance.
Just before Jessie pulled on the brass door handle, the girls slowed to a dignified walk and stopped talking. They knew
that Miss Tyler, the librarian, was inside. Just about everyone in Fairfield, under the age of forty, was a little bit afraid of Miss Tyler.
CHAPTER FIVE
The quiet coolness of the library was a welcome relief from the sweltering heat outside. Miss Tyler was in her usual place—seated on a tall stool behind the big reception desk. From her perch, she had a direct view of all who entered and all who misbehaved. Her round black eyes missed nothing.
“You do the talking,” whispered Jessie to Tina. “She’s always nicer to you.”
At the sound of whispering, Miss Tyler’s eyes snapped up sharply from the book she was reading. She watched the girls closely as they approached the desk.
“Kirstina, Jessica,” said Miss Tyler in a low voice. “I’ve told you before. Whispering disturbs others. Speak in a low voice. Do not whisper in the library.”
After a moment, she said, “Now, how may we be of help?”
“Sorry, Miss Tyler,” said Tina in a low voice. “We need information on Mr. C.G. Johnson. Do you keep old newspapers?”
“We don’t keep the actual newspapers, Kirstina,” lectured Miss Tyler. “Surely you can see that we wouldn’t have room to store so many papers in this building. And imagine the fire hazard. Why no insurance company would think of insuring the library if we did that.” She pursed her mouth in disapproval.
I’m glad I didn’t ask, thought Jessie. She’s even laying it on Tina today. I wonder if she ever smiles.
She studied the woman behind the desk. Miss Tyler was tall and very thin. With her dark hair pulled back into a bun, her long nose seemed even longer and it curved down—like a parrot’s beak. Her darting black eyes saw everything in the library. She even had the right name—Polly. Maybe she’d be nicer if I brought her a cracker. Jessie smiled at the thought.
The sharp black eyes caught the smile. “Is something amusing, Jessica?” asked the librarian.
“Just thinking about something funny my baby brother did yesterday,” said Jessie, crossing her fingers behind her back. She knew Miss Tyler wouldn’t ask more. Babies didn’t seem to interest her, probably because they were noisy and couldn’t read.
The Secret of Willow Lane Page 2
