“I want to ring the doorbell!” Benny shouted. He liked ringing doorbells.
“If you keep shouting like that,” Violet said, smiling, “we won’t have to ring the doorbell!”
Benny ran to the door and rang the doorbell. He rang it a second time. He was about to ring the bell a third time when Jessie ran and caught his hand and said, “Benny! That’s enough!”
Mr. Beck opened the door and smiled at the children. “Look who’s here! All four Alden children! What can I do for you?”
“We have a question,” Henry said. “On Saturday when you were working at our house, you said you have to watch out with these old windows in the summer. What did you mean?”
“The windows in your house were getting tight and hard to open,” he said. “Old windows are fragile and can break easily.”
“What would you think if an air conditioner was running on a very hot day,” Henry said, “so the air inside was very cold…could that make a window break?”
“Extreme temperature changes are very bad for old glass,” Mr. Beck said. “Very cold inside, and very hot outside? Yes, that could cause a spontaneous break. Why?”
“Spontaneous!” Benny cried. “Like putting ice in hot coffee! The glass can break!”
“Exactly,” said Mr. Beck.
“The air conditioning was running in the old Gerry’s General Store building,” Henry said. “The police think it was vandalism. People are blaming Kayla. But maybe the old window broke because of the cold inside and hot outside.”
“I read about that broken window in the newspaper,” Mr. Beck said. “The newspaper didn’t say anything about an air conditioner running.”
“The air conditioner was definitely running,” Jessie said. “I’m surprised Mrs. Leob didn’t mention that to the police. I wonder why it was on.”
“That was an old building,” said Mr. Beck. “The air conditioner was probably old, too. It probably just went haywire. Turned on by itself. The windows got icy cold, the sun beat down, and wham, the window broke.”
“Perhaps we should tell the police,” Violet said. “They might not know the inside was freezing and that extreme temperature changes can cause old glass to break.”
“I will do that,” Mr. Beck said. “I will head over there right away. They can investigate to see if that was what broke the window.”
The children thanked Mr. Beck. They all said goodbye.
When the children were back on the sidewalk heading home, Jessie said, “It’s nice to know the broken window probably wasn’t vandalism. The problem is, we’re no closer to figuring out who wrote that letter and caused Kayla all these problems.”
Violet said, “At least people will stop blaming Kayla for the broken window.”
“I was really starting to think Ashley had broken the window,” Jessie said. “She kept acting strangely about the golf ball.”
“Maybe there is still a clue there,” Henry said. “There was something strange about all those golf balls on the floor of the store. Why don’t you just ask her what she knows about the golf ball? You’re the team captain, after all. The ball was used to trip a team member. You have a good reason to ask her.”
“All right, I’ll ask her tomorrow,” Jessie said. “Maybe there still is a connection between the golf balls and the letter writer, even though I can’t imagine what the connection can possibly be.”
That night, long after the rest of the family was asleep, Violet heard Jessie tossing in her bed.
“Are you awake?” Violet whispered.
“Yes,” Jessie said. “I’m thinking about Kayla. Why are you awake?”
“I keep thinking about Kayla, too,” Violet said.
The only light in the room came from a small night light in the bathroom just down the hallway. There was just enough light so Violet could see the outline of her stuffed animals on the shelf near her bed.
“I would love to be an international soccer mascot,” Jessie whispered. “But not like this. Not because someone else is having bad fortune.”
“I know what you mean,” Violet whispered back.
“If we don’t get to the bottom of this,” Jessie said, “I’ll have to say I don’t want to go.”
Just then, words popped into Violet’s head: Things aren’t always as they seem.
Violet’s teacher had said that once. Violet agreed completely that things were not always as they seemed. For example, a lot of people disliked Kayla. A lot of people were jealous of Kayla, too. So it seemed like someone who didn’t like her and was jealous of her wrote the mean letter. But maybe that wasn’t what happened at all, Violet realized.
She thought about the golf balls. Because golf balls were found inside Gerry’s General Store, and because Kayla had a golf ball in her hand, so it seemed like there was a connection between Kayla and the broken window. But what if there was more to the story?
Violet knew that sometimes, with mysteries, the clue is where something doesn’t quite feel right.
For Violet, the part that didn’t feel right was Kayla’s attitude toward soccer. She didn’t seem to even like soccer. Who would have thought that?
Everyone criticized Kayla for not being a team player. But if she didn’t even like soccer, no wonder she wasn’t a good team player.
Violet put her head on the pillow and closed her eyes. Jessie’s breathing was so deep and steady, Violet knew she had fallen asleep. Violet still felt puzzled, but she felt comforted as always by the nearness of her sister. Soon she, too, fell asleep.
CHAPTER 9
A Confession
The next morning, at school, lots of Jessie’s classmates came to congratulate her on being asked to be mascot.
Jessie said thank you, always adding, “But I don’t think I’ll go. I don’t think it’s fair to Kayla.”
“I’m sure you’ll go, Jessie,” Danielle said coldly.
Jessie turned to look at Danielle, astonished.
“Everyone keeps thinking I wrote that letter,” Danielle said, “because I don’t like Kayla. Here’s what I wonder. I wonder if Jessie wrote the letter because she knew Coach Olson likes her best, so she knew she’d get to go to Brazil as mascot!”
“I did not write that letter,” Jessie said, horrified.
Just then, Ashley walked over to join them. “Maybe it was Jessie who wrote the letter!” Ashley said.
Jessie folded her arms across her chest and looked at Ashley. “Tell me about that golf ball Danielle used to trip Kayla,” Jessie said. “What do you know about it?”
As before, the mention of the golf ball had a strange effect on Ashley. She looked quickly away and didn’t say anything. She rocked on the balls of her feet, as if she wanted to run away.
No doubt, there was something going on with Ashley and that golf ball.
“It’s okay,” Jessie said gently. “You can tell me. I don’t think you broke the window. Something seems strange, though, about the whole thing. A bunch of golf balls were found inside the store. Danielle used a golf ball to trip Kayla. Then people started blaming Kayla for breaking the window when I know she didn’t.”
Ashley had a pained, guilty look on her face. Jessie suspected Ashley was about to make a confession. She was thus surprised when Ashley cried, “I didn’t break the window either! I promise.”
“I know you didn’t,” Jessie said. “Mr. Beck, the handyman, knows about old windows. He said it probably broke by itself.”
“Well, good, because I didn’t break the window,” Ashley said.
“Then why do you act strangely every time someone mentions the golf ball?” Jessie asked.
Ashley narrowed her eyes. A moment passed. Then another. Jessie thought Ashley was about to say something mean. Instead, she said, “I was walking to practice on Wednesday, and I went by the old store. The window was broken and inside were some golf balls. I reached in and picked one up. While we were waiting for practice, Danielle and I were rolling it back and forth.”
“I see,” Jessi
e said. “The truth is that you stole the golf ball.”
Ashley looked horrified. “It was just laying there! It didn’t belong to anyone! The store was abandoned! It really wasn’t stealing!”
Jessie didn’t answer.
“It wasn’t,” Ashley said. Then she softened and looked genuinely frightened. “Was it?”
“It was stealing,” Jessie said. “Why did you take it?”
“It was just sitting there inside the window. I don’t know. I shouldn’t have.”
“Just go put it back,” Jessie said.
“I would, but Kayla still has it. I can’t ask her for it back. She’ll wonder why I’m asking. Then she’ll figure out I stole it, then she’ll tell everyone I stole it to get back at me for being mean.”
“Maybe she won’t,” Jessie said. Then she had an idea. “Do you want me to get it back from her?”
“Would you?” Ashley said. “Oh, thank you!”
Jessie was walking home from school when she was surprised by a tap on her shoulder.
She turned. There was Kayla, smiling. “Thanks,” Kayla said.
Jessie knew right away Kayla was thanking her for standing up for her about the window.
“It was nothing,” Jessie said. “I just knew you didn’t break that window.”
“It was awfully nice of you,” Kayla said.
Then Jessie remembered Ashley and the golf ball. “Oh, by the way, do you still have that golf ball?”
“Yes,” Kayla said. “Why?”
“I know who it belongs to. Will you give it to me so I can return it?”
“Sure!” Kayla waved, then walked off in the direction of her own house.
When Jessie arrived home, she immediately went to look for Henry. He was already in his bedroom, sitting at his desk, doing homework. When she entered his room, he set down his pencil and turned to her. She told him everything, including the mean thing Danielle had suggested.
“Someone in my class said that, too,” Henry said. “Someone who doesn’t know you at all suggested you wrote the letter so you could be mascot.”
Jessie sat down gloomily. “We have to figure out who wrote the letter!” she said.
Henry said, “Let’s gather everyone together so we can go over our clues. It’s snack time, anyway.”
All four children sat together at the table in the kitchen eating their after-school snack. Mrs. McGregor had made banana bread, which they ate with milk. “This is the best banana bread Mrs. McGregor has ever made!” Benny said, as he helped himself to another slice.
The children went over all their clues. Given how many people disliked Kayla, they were surprised to realize they had only three real suspects: Mr. Olson, Danielle, and Ashley. Jessie added another name. “Mia said she thought I should be mascot, so she is a suspect, too.”
“Who’s Mia?” Benny asked.
“She’s the high school girl who helps coaches my team,” Jessie said.
The problem was Jessie was pretty sure neither Danielle or Ashley had written the letter. Nobody really believed Mr. Olson had done it. And there wasn’t much to connect Mia to the letter, either.
The Alden children looked at each other in silence.
Suddenly Violet said, “There is one other suspect we haven’t thought of who might have written that letter.”
Everyone looked at her.
“Who?” Henry asked.
“Kayla,” Violet said.
The children looked at her, stunned.
“She doesn’t even like soccer,” Violet said. “She told me. Her parents filled out the application. I think they push her to play soccer when she’d rather not. I think she’d rather draw.”
“That explains why she hasn’t acted upset about not being mascot,” Jessie said.
“Do you think she sabotaged her own chances?” Henry asked. “Why not just say she didn’t want to be mascot?”
“Maybe she thought the letter would be easier than telling her parents the truth,” Violet said.
The children were quiet, considering this.
“Well,” Jessie said. “Her mother is very forceful.”
Henry said, “Kayla’s new in town, so she might not know about the automatic save function at the library.”
“Even if she knew,” Jessie said, “why would she care? Nobody would suspect her. They’d think it was Danielle or someone else who is mean to her.”
“If Kayla wrote the letter,” Henry said, “she’ll never tell anyone.”
“She might tell me,” Violet said.
“How are you going to get her to tell you?” Jessie asked.
“I don’t know yet,” Violet said.
Kayla was in the glade with her sketch pad when Violet arrived. Violet smiled, sat down, and took out her pencils. To Violet’s surprise, she also took out a golf ball.
“Can you give this to Jessie for me?”
“Certainly,” Violet said. They drew for a long time in silence. At last, Violet put her pencil down and said, “There is something bad happening. It has to do with Jessie.”
“Jessie?” Kayla looked instantly concerned.
“People are saying Jessie wrote that letter to the mascot committee because she wanted to be mascot. People say she knew she was Coach Olson’s favorite and if your chances were ruined, she’d get to be mascot.”
“Everyone should know Jessie would never do something like that,” Kayla said.
Kayla frowned and went back to her sketch pad. The two girls drew for a while in silence. Violet was not concentrating on her drawing. She sensed that Kayla wasn’t either.
Violet took a deep breath and said, “Do you know what I think?” Violet knew it was easier for shy people to listen to other people’s ideas than to answer direct questions. So she said, “I think you wrote the letter.” She said this in a matter-of-fact way.
“Ridiculous,” Kayla said. She went on drawing.
“I just thought maybe you wrote the letter because your parents are so serious about soccer.”
“They are serious,” Kayla said. “Too serious, if you ask me.”
They drew in silence again. After a while, Kayla said, “Do people really think Jessie would write that letter?”
“It looks bad, doesn’t it? Someone writes a letter, then Jessie gets to be mascot. You can see how people might think that.”
Kayla sprang to her feet. “Well it’s not true! Jessie did not write the letter.” Kayla scooped up her pencils and sketchpad. “I have to go now,” she said, and ran off through the woods.
Violet scooped up her own pencils and sketchpad and ran after her. Kayla was a good runner, much better than Violet. Violet had to run her fastest to keep up. When Kayla turned right at the street, Violet understood Kayla was heading toward the soccer field.
Jessie had come early to soccer practice that day. Coach Olson, and a few of the girls, were already there. Mia had said she couldn’t coach, so Coach Olson said he’d be there too so Henry wouldn’t be on his own.
Jessie waved to Coach Olson. He waved back. She walked purposely toward him.
“Hey, Jessie, what’s up?” he asked.
“I’ve been thinking,” she said. “I believe someone is sabotaging Kayla. I just don’t feel right accepting the invitation to be mascot because—”
They both looked up to see Mrs. Thompson marching across the street toward them.
“Oh, no,” Coach Olson said. “It looks like something else has happened.”
“Has anyone seen Kayla?” Mrs. Thompson asked loudly.
Coach Olson looked around. “She doesn’t seem to be here yet.”
“I haven’t been able to find her all afternoon. Lately she’s been disappearing for hours at a time.”
“Here she comes now!” Jessie said, pointing.
Kayla jogged toward them. Tucked under her arm was a sketch pad. Her face was flushed from the heat, her neck and forehead wet with perspiration.
That was when Jessie noticed that Violet, too, was running
from the same direction. Violet was panting. Jessie ran for her own water bottle and gave it to Violet, who drank some, then splashed water on her face.
“Whew!” Violet said. “It’s hot!”
“What’s going on?” Jessie whispered.
“I’m not completely sure,” Violet whispered back.
“Where have you been?” Mrs. Thompson asked Kayla.
“In the woods, drawing.” Kayla’s voice was low and remarkably steady for someone who had just sprinted in the heat.
“Why?” Mrs. Thompson asked.
Instead of answering the question, Kayla said, “I cannot have people saying that Jessie wrote that letter sabotaging me. Jessie is much too nice. She didn’t do it.”
“And how do you know that?” Mrs. Thompson said.
“Because I wrote the letter,” Kayla said.
There was stunned silence. Then Mrs. Thompson said, “What?”
“I never thought it would blow up this way!” Kayla said. “I never thought there would be a big scandal. I thought you’d keep it all hush-hush. I thought you’d be embarrassed. I didn’t think you’d march onto the soccer field and tell the whole town about it!”
Mrs. Thompson stared, astonished. She opened her mouth to speak, but then closed her mouth. There was a long silence. Jessie found herself smiling. She supposed Mrs. Thompson wasn’t often at a loss for words.
At last, Mrs. Thompson asked, “Why on earth would you do such a thing?”
Kayla didn’t answer.
Violet leaned and whispered to Jessie, “She wrote the letter because she didn’t want to play soccer anymore.”
Jessie stepped forward and, to Mrs. Thompson, said, “Ma’am, maybe Kayla wrote the letter because she didn’t want to play soccer any more. Maybe she didn’t want to be a mascot.”
“Oh, don’t be silly,” Mrs. Thompson snapped.
“Well, I didn’t!” Kayla said. “It was too much! Soccer, soccer, soccer. All the time. Every day. Nothing else but soccer! I told you I wanted to do the drawing class and you said, ‘but what about soccer.’”
Violet squeezed Jessie’s hand.
Things are not what they seem.
Kayla wasn’t a snooty show-off, like everyone thought. She was unhappy. She was shy and quiet. She wanted to be left in peace, with her sketch pad. She acted badly because she didn’t want to play any more.