Rock Harbor Search and Rescue

  “What was the price of yours?”

  “Fifty dollars.”

  “Mrs. Dancer told the sheriff that hers was over a thousand dollars.” Olivia rubbed the end of her nose. “I’m just wondering why hers is so much more, if you both used basically the same materials.”

  “Because she’s Mary Dancer, I guess.” But now that she thought about it, Emily didn’t think Mrs. Dancer’s necklace was worth that much more than hers. “And maybe because people believe it will ward of the Windigo. You heard what she said to the police about the Windigo striking while the protection was gone. Everyone knows that Mrs. Dancer made the necklace to ward off the Windigo. She said she had the medicine man bless it.”

  “Mom said it was silly to believe in that stuff. You don’t believe in the Windigo, do you?”

  Emily glanced over to the car. Dad and Naomi were still chatting with some of their neighbors. “Of course not.” But when she was alone in the dark and heard something outside in the woods, the thought of the Windigo sometimes scared her. “At least, not now. But some of the old Ojibwa members here in the Kitchigami area do believe in the Windigo. They make charms and stuff like that to keep it away.”

  “Mrs. Dancer claimed her Sapphire Beauty could do that?”

  Emily nodded. “Naomi showed me the picture of the necklace, so I read the article in the Kitchigami Journal.”

  “You know,” Olivia began, “if Mrs. Dancer’s necklace was featured in the paper, maybe someone planned to steal it all along.”

  “You’re right. I didn’t even think about that. I can’t remember everything the article said. I was mostly interested in looking at the necklace.”

  “We need to get a copy of that paper.”

  “Right. It was about three weeks ago.”

  “Emily! Olivia!” Naomi called. “Let’s go.”

  As they climbed into the third-row seat of the Honda SUV, Emily’s heart held on to the hope her best friend had given her. She could almost taste the apology everyone would have to give her when she proved she had nothing to do with the missing necklace. And Rachel Zinn would have to give a special apology for lying about her.

  And maybe Mrs. Dancer would give Emily back her money. That puppy would be licking her chin very soon.

  Sunday dinner was always loud at the O’Reilly house. From the time they got home from church, Naomi needed Emily’s help in the kitchen making pasties, which were little beef semicircle pies that people had been eating since the Cornish miners brought them to the U.P. Olivia talked to her parents on the phone. Matthew took forever to go down for his nap, and Timmy broke two plates setting the table because he kept playing with Charley. Naomi had finally put the dog outside.

  Adding to the craziness, Grandma Heinonen and her best friend, Mrs. McDonald, joined them. Grandma wasn’t their real grandma since she was Naomi’s mother, but Emily loved her just like she was. Most times, when Grandma and her best friend came over for meals, Emily didn’t care one way or the other, but today . . . today she sat right beside Mrs. McDonald.

  Mrs. McDonald was the town’s biggest gossip. As she waved a plump hand in the air, Emily noticed her fingers held so many rings it was a wonder she could move her hand. “Hello, Emily, dear. How is school starting for you this year? Aren’t you a freshman? High school is such great fun.”

  “No, ma’am. I start high school next year.” Emily wished she could look forward to it, but her stomach clenched every time she thought about moving to the other side of the school.

  “Oh, you’ll love it. Such a wonderful time.” Mrs. McDonald turned and spoke to Grandma on her other side about her rosebushes.

  Emily waited until Dad had finished praying over the meal, then handed Mrs. McDonald the basket of rolls. “Mrs. McDonald, did you know that Mrs. Cooper and Pansy are back in Rock Harbor?”

  “Emily!” Naomi frowned.

  “Sorry.” Emily widened her eyes on purpose. “I didn’t know it was a secret.”

  “Shh, dear. It’s not a secret.” Mrs. McDonald looked at Naomi. “She’s been back in town for two weeks, the poor thing. Trying to rebuild a life for her and poor Pansy.” She tsked as she spooned green dill tomatoes onto her plate. “I can’t believe she came back here, of all places. Like the citizens of Rock Harbor would just welcome her back into our fold after what Pete did.”

  “Why did she come back?” Emily asked, ignoring Dad’s frown.

  “Why, dear, she had no other place to go. At least their house here is paid for. She’s been renting it out all this time, but the last boarder moved on a few weeks back. She and Pansy can have a roof over their heads here, at least.”

  “Where is she working?”

  “Emily! This isn’t your business,” Naomi said.

  Mrs. McDonald shook her head. “The child’s merely curious, Naomi. There’s nothing wrong with curiosity. I, myself, have always been a curious person.” She smiled at Emily. “Lucy hasn’t found a job yet, my dear. She’s looking for just about anything, from what I’m told. I imagine she’s getting quite desperate by this time.”

  “That’s enough.” Dad glared at Emily before forcing a smile at Mrs. McDonald and lifting his tone of voice. “We shouldn’t discuss someone else’s private business.”

  Emily dropped her gaze to the pasties Naomi had made for lunch. She cut off a piece and dipped it in ketchup before taking a bite. The mix of hamburger meat, potatoes, and carrots with just the right amount of onions tasted so good. Emily wondered as she chewed. So Mrs. Cooper is getting desperate, is she?

  Desperate enough to steal a necklace to feed her kid?

  Although excitement raced through Emily at the possibility of proving her innocence, her stomach knotted at the thought of Pansy needing food. Or clothes. She remembered what it felt like to be different from everybody at school after her own mother was sent to prison. She wouldn’t wish those times on anyone. Not even Rachel Zinn. It certainly wasn’t fair for Pansy to have to go through that.

  Her appetite momentarily lost, Emily made eye contact with Olivia across the table. They needed to do something to help Pansy. Maybe she could have Timmy stick up for her if anyone tried to pick on Pansy. He’d said he would do whatever she told him to, right? She’d have a talk with him tonight.

  Mrs. McDonald stared straight at Dad. “Perhaps not. Maybe we should go straight to the source for such information.” She nudged Emily. “So, tell me about this stolen necklace of Mary Dancer’s.”

  Emily forced herself to swallow the bite. It went down dry, scraping her throat. She coughed and reached for her glass of milk. She took a long gulp.

  “I didn’t mean to choke you up, dear. I’m merely asking what happened.” But Mrs. McDonald’s expression clearly showed her interest. Whatever she found out would be repeated. Probably several times over too.

  As simply as she could, Emily explained what had happened. “And no matter what anyone says, I don’t know what happened to the necklace.”

  “Of course you don’t. I’m sure no one thinks you do, dear,” Mrs. McDonald said.

  Emily glanced at Dad, who still frowned. He seemed to believe Rachel Zinn’s lies over his own daughter’s word. “Emily . . .” There was no mistaking the warning tone of his voice.

  “I know, I know. But I’m responsible for it going missing because I was watching Mrs. Dancer’s booth.” She looked back to Mrs. McDonald. “But she was gone for only fifteen or twenty minutes. Thirty, tops. No one can be positive the necklace went missing while Mrs. Dancer was in the bathroom.”

  “My goodness.” Mrs. McDonald looked at Naomi. “What does Sheriff Kaleva say about this? I understand he took everyone’s statement.”

  Naomi shrugged. “He’s looking into it, but didn’t give much hope in solving the mystery or recovering the necklace. It was her prized necklace, the piece she’d gotten a lot of publicity over. She’s so upset.”

  And if they believed Rachel’s lies . . .

  “I imagine Mary’s more than upset. I bet she
’s beside herself,” Grandma said. “She wouldn’t even let me exhibit her Sapphire Beauty at the bed-and-breakfast at first. Then I assured her I carried more than adequate insurance on all items I have for sale.” She owned the Blue Bonnet Bed and Breakfast on Houghton Street. It kept busy year-round.

  “You sell jewelry?” Emily had never thought about asking Grandma to show her stuff.

  “I do, but I only sell items created by local artists. I’ve exhibited several of Mary’s pieces, sold quite a few as well, and never has she been so particular about a single piece as she was over her Sapphire Beauty.”

  “Why?” Emily blurted out, despite Dad’s frown returning. Didn’t he understand how she needed to solve the mystery? Didn’t he care how important this was to her?

  “I don’t know. Maybe because it’s currently her most valuable piece?”

  “Emily, go ahead and start on the dishes,” Dad said, clearly ending the discussion.

  Emily couldn’t help but wonder what it was about the Windigo necklace that made Mrs. Dancer so protective of it.

  And who would risk stealing it.

  FOUR

  “Who can relate to the heroine of the story?” Mrs. Lempinen, the English teacher, asked.

  Emily barely paid attention as most of her classmates raised their hands. The historical story wasn’t very interesting, and she loved history. A young woman, once a street kid, had stolen to survive before she became respectable and helped out other street kids. Emily would have been much more interested in the girl if she’d found a way to do the right thing without stealing.

  But it was more than the boring story that was making Emily’s mind wander. All day, people had stared at her funny and then whispered as she walked by. She didn’t bother asking them what they were talking about, but she already knew.

  The missing necklace.

  The Kitchigami Journal had done a whole article about it. She’d seen the paper that morning before she’d left for school. The necklace’s disappearance took up half of the paper’s front page. There were quotes from Mary Dancer and Sheriff Kaleva, and while neither named her, they stated that “a replica of the Windigo necklace, made by the young lady whose booth was right beside Mary’s, was left in place of the valuable Sapphire Beauty.” Everyone knew they meant Emily.

  “Who here thinks the young heroine’s thieving ways were justified?”

  Rachel Zinn waved her arm.

  Emily caught Olivia’s stare and rolled her eyes. Rachel was such a teacher’s pet. Emily couldn’t wait to catch Rachel outside of class and confront her about the lie she’d told the sheriff.

  “Rachel,” Mrs. Lempinen called on her.

  Slowly, Rachel stood. “While stealing is wrong, the heroine of the story stole food.” She turned away from the teacher and faced the class. “She stole food to eat so she wouldn’t die of starvation. She only stole to survive, not for profit.” Rachel’s stare landed on Emily. “Unlike some people.”

  Of all the nerve . . . Emily balled her hands into fists under her desk.

  Rachel turned back to Mrs. Lempinen and smiled that fake, sweet smile of hers. “I think her actions were justified.”

  “Thank you, Rachel.” Mrs. Lempinen waited for Rachel to take her seat. “Does anyone else have any thoughts they’d like to share?”

  The bell sounded before anyone could raise a hand.

  “Remember to study tonight for the literature test tomorrow.” Mrs. Lempinen dismissed the class with a wave of her hand.

  Emily snatched her notebooks from her desk and pushed against her classmates to the door. “Hey.” She followed Rachel into the hall. Stay calm. She couldn’t go one second more without knowing why Rachel had told the sheriff such a crazy story.

  Rachel kept walking, her blond hair swaying as she moved.

  “Hey, Rachel.” Emily raised her voice and grabbed Rachel’s shoulder. “I want to talk to you.”

  Spinning, Rachel jerked free of Emily’s hand. “Don’t touch me.”

  Emily put her free hand on her hip. “I want to know why you’re spreading lies about me.”

  Rachel raised one eyebrow. “I’m not.”

  “Yes, you are. You told Sheriff Kaleva that you heard me say I planned to steal Mrs. Dancer’s necklace, and that’s an out-and-out lie. You know it is.”

  People stopped moving in the hall. They hung together in groups, watching. Staring. Good. Maybe they’d all find out the truth.

  Rachel shrugged. “I heard you tell Olivia you were making a copy of Mrs. Dancer’s necklace so you could take hers and make a lot of money.”

  Emily shook her head. “I never said that. Why are you lying?”

  Rachel’s face reddened. “I’m not making it up. You told Olivia that in the girls’ bathroom several weeks ago. I heard you. So did Gretchen.” Rachel crossed her arms over her chest.

  “I never said I planned to steal the necklace.” Emily gripped her notebook tighter against her chest with her left hand and balled her right into a fist at her side. “I said—”

  “You’re just like the woman we read about. But worse. You didn’t steal for a good reason. You stole because you’re greedy.”

  Emily took a step forward. “I did not. You take that back.”

  Rachel pointed her finger at Emily. “You’re a thief, Emily O’Reilly. A criminal. Just like your mother.”

  The English teacher stepped into the hall and glared at Emily and Rachel. “Girls, move along.”

  “She stopped me, Mrs. Lempinen.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” Her frown settled on all the kids lingering in the hall. “All of you, move on.”

  Emily marched off to class amid the sly glances and whispers with a lump in her throat. There had to be a way to make Rachel tell the truth.

  Olivia came alongside Emily. “Don’t let her get to you.”

  “I wish I knew what I’d done to make her hate me so much.” She followed Olivia into the hall and toward their lockers. “Enough that she’d lie to the sheriff about me. Did you hear what she said?” She pulled a package of dental floss from her locker and shoved it into her pocket.

  Emily and Rachel had been friends, kind of, in elementary school, then all of a sudden, like a switch flipped when they’d entered seventh grade, Rachel had gone out of her way to be mean toward Emily.

  “She’s just being mean because she’s jealous of you.” Olivia opened her locker, two down from Emily’s.

  “Jealous? Of me? How do you figure?” Emily shook her head as she loaded her backpack with the books and folders she’d need for her homework. Olivia must have lost her mind.

  “Because Rachel can’t stand for anybody to get more attention than her. You always make better grades than her, and you were selected to be on the History Smackdown team and she wasn’t.”

  “Like Rachel cares about an academic challenge team? She’s already president of our class and head cheerleader of the junior varsity squad.”

  Olivia slammed her locker shut. “Emily, have you forgotten who the corporate sponsor for the Smackdown is?”

  Oh yeah. Rock Harbor Fishing Resort, owned by Mr. Zinn. Rachel’s dad.

  Grabbing Emily’s backpack and slinging it over her other shoulder, Olivia closed Emily’s locker. “You can bet her dad probably wasn’t too happy that his darling daughter didn’t make the team for the one event his company sponsored.”

  Emily pressed her lips together. She didn’t want to feel sorry for Rachel. Not after the snotty way she’d acted in English class and the way she seemed determined to get her in trouble with the sheriff. But with what Olivia said . . .

  “Hey, did you tell your parents that we’d be late coming home from school today?” Olivia asked. “If we hurry, we can make it to the Kitchigami Journal office before they close.”

  “I told Naomi. Let’s go.” They spilled out of the school with the rest of the kids onto Summit Street, some racing toward the buses while others grabbed their bikes.

  Emily and Olivia hur
ried toward Pepin Street to the local newspaper office.

  Rock Harbor’s three-block downtown area could have come straight from one of Emily’s little brother’s picture books. The town’s major businesses lined Houghton Street, which was intersected by Jack Pine Lane and Pepin Street. The storefronts were painted in cheerful pastel colors.

  Rock Harbor may have been smaller than some towns in the Upper Peninsula, but it more than made up for it with its quirky personality. There were forests on three sides, and Lake Superior stretched out along the other. The Ojibwa called it Kitchigami, which meant “giver of life.” Emily loved the sound of the surf, but always from a distance. The water scared her silly, and no amount of her friends’ teasing could make her get into the water. Ever since she’d nearly drowned, she’d refused to put so much as a toe in. She hated even remembering that day.

  “Good, looks like they’re still open.” Olivia grabbed Emily’s hand, and they crossed the street to the newspaper office.

  Emily sniffed to see if she could smell the newsprint. “The first newspaper was printed in Boston by Richard Pierce in 1690. And then it was shut down by the administration. Isn’t that interesting?”

  Olivia gave a little snort. “Not really.”

  A bell rang as they pushed the door open. Dust floated in the sunlight sneaking in behind them. Emily wrinkled her nose as she let her eyes adjust to the much dimmer light of the newspaper office.

  “Hello, young ladies. How may I help you?” Ms. Harris asked, walking in from the back room.

  Ms. Harris was tall, with long auburn hair, probably in her forties or so, and wore a business suit. Everyone in town knew she was the newspaper’s only reporter.

  Emily swallowed. “Um, we need to talk to someone about getting a copy of the paper from about three weeks ago. Please.”

  “Well, I’m the person who can help you at the moment.” The reporter moved toward them, hand extended. “Inetta Harris.”