Wakened by a jarring urgent ring, Mallory Gilmartin
reached for the phone and mumbled a sleepy, “Hello?”
“Mallory?” It was her Grandma Aggie–sounding
extremely mysterious, even for her.
Mallory shot up in bed. “Aggie, what’s wrong?”
Everyone knew her grandmother didn’t like to be called
Grandma–she was too hip, and her name was ‘Aggie’–so
everyone, including her grandchildren, called her that.
“Get over to Edna May Florentine’s house as fast as you
can,” she said breathlessly. “I’ll meet you there.”
With that, the line went dead.
Mallory knew when Aggie meant serious business, and
disturbed by her grandmother’s strange message, she quickly
scrambled out from under the covers. She remembered Miss
Florentine as the stern-faced, elderly librarian who just a few
months earlier had helped her find some archived newspaper
articles regarding the Marlatt family. However, apart from
that one meeting, she had not had any real interaction with her
since.
Mallory threw on some warm clothes and raced down
the stairs. She headed for the kitchen where she found her
mother, Lorna Gilmartin, leaning over the breakfast counter
reading the local newspaper. They had moved some months ago
to this small rented cottage in her mother’s hometown of
Cedar Creek, Virginia, but leaving her friends in Philadelphia,
and her important position on the school baseball team had
not been something Mallory had wanted to do. She did have
to admit though, that she had finally made some new friends,
and there was no denying she loved being near her outrageously
independent grandmother.
As she charged into the room, her mother looked up.
“Says here the circus is in town. Would you and Ron
like to go see it this weekend?”
Ron was Mallory’s snooty, older brother who thought he
knew everything about everything.
“I’ll have to let you know later, Mom. Aggie just called
and wants me to get over to Miss Florentine’s house on the
double.”
Mallory grabbed a piece of toast off her mother’s plate as
she raced by, and stuffed a bite into her mouth.
Lorna stared at her daughter with concern. Having
grown up in Cedar Creek, she knew Miss Florentine well.
“Did your grandmother say what was wrong?”
Mallory shook her head. Cramming the last bite into her
mouth, she grabbed her baseball cap and turned to head for
the front door. “I’ll let you know when I find out,” she
shouted back. The door slammed shut behind her.
The air was crisp and the sun shone brightly as Mallory
jumped on her bicycle and set off down the path. Suddenly,
she heard a propeller plane whining and sputtering overhead
as if it were in trouble. She stopped and looked up, but saw
nothing other than a few wispy white clouds. Remembering
that Aggie was waiting, Mallory gave a shrug, and climbing on
her bike again, pedaled onto the main road toward town.
It didn’t take long before Miss Florentine’s two-story,
gothic-style house came into view. It was a rather foreboding
and uninviting structure with an odd assortment of rooms
that had been added to it over the years. Shaking off a strange
sense of discomfort, Mallory leaned her bike against a tree and
made her way up the steps to the front door where she
knocked vigorously.
Just as muffled footsteps approached from inside,
Mallory again heard the drone of a small plane above. Its
engine sputtered and misfired and gave off an overpowering
smell of gasoline, but when she turned and looked, there was
still no sign of anything in the sky. Mallory shook her head
puzzled.
At that moment, Miss Florentine opened her heavy front
door. She stared rather absent-mindedly at Mallory and then
beckoned her inside. The elderly woman, her grey hair pulled
back in a tight bun and looking slightly bewildered, led
Mallory down a long hallway to a dimly lit room filled with
heavy, ornate furniture and overstuffed chairs covered with
lace doilies. She clutched nervously at an old brown cardigan
draped around her shoulders and indicated for Mallory to sit
in one of the chairs. Still saying nothing, the old lady trudged
across the faded floral carpet and seated herself on a couch, her
face pale and her hands fluttering in her lap.
Mallory waited, confused at such odd behavior.
After a moment Miss Florentine spoke. “Aggie and your
friend Kyle are searching the rest of my house now,” she
sighed.
“Searching your house?” Mallory exclaimed. “Why, Miss
Florentine?”
“Because someone robbed me last night,” she mumbled
uneasily.
