Emily’s heart pounded even as she realized Naomi had stopped humming. “Quick, hand me the notebook so I can write down the address.”
Olivia passed her the spiral notebook and pen. Emily scribbled the name of the pawnshop, along with the address and phone number, just as the door to Matthew’s bedroom clicked shut.
“Exit the Internet,” Emily whispered.
Olivia closed the window. They stood as Naomi came down the hall, carrying the latest book she was in the middle of reading.
“What’re you girls doing?”
“Research.” Emily hugged the notebook to her chest. “But we just finished. I’m about to go brush my teeth and floss.”
“Oh, okay. Keep it down. I just got Matthew to sleep.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Emily led the way to her bedroom and pulled the door behind them.
“That was close,” Olivia said as she plopped onto Emily’s bed.
“Tell me about it.” Emily set the notebook on her desk and joined Olivia on the bed. “But at least we know the pawnshop where Mrs. Cooper sold the jewelry.”
“Um, Emily . . . what are you going to do about it? It’s not like we can go to Marquette to the pawnshop to see if Mrs. Dancer’s necklace is there.”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Maybe we can call the pawnshop and describe the necklace. See if they have it.”
Emily chewed her lip. “I don’t think they’d give out that information over the phone.”
“Maybe we could get someone to take us there.”
“Like who?”
Olivia shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Wait a minute . . .” The idea came to Emily like a bolt of lightning. “How about we give the tip to Ms. Harris to check out for us? She’s a newsperson . . . it’d be natural for her to follow up on a lead.”
Olivia sat up straight. “And she seemed to really like you.”
Because of her mother. But right now, Emily didn’t have any other choice. “Yeah. I bet she’ll get right on it.”
Emily just wouldn’t mention her mother, or parole, or how much she looked like her.
That reminded her that she needed to talk to Timmy and find out about those nightmares. She thought he’d stopped having them years ago. If they were bad, she’d have to tell Naomi and Dad, even if that made Timmy mad at her.
Sometimes doing the right thing was hard.
After brushing their teeth and changing into their pajamas, they climbed into Emily’s bed. Within minutes, Olivia’s steady breathing told Emily her best friend had fallen asleep.
Emily wasn’t so lucky. Her mind raced with so much stuff to think about. Her mom . . . the pawnshop . . .
Screeeeeccccchhhhh.
Emily sat upright in bed. What was that sound? Her heart raced. She bit her lip and waited, listening. Nothing.
Letting out a slow breath, she lay back down. With everything going on, it was natural she was hearing things. Olivia would get a kick out of it in the morning when Emily told her. They’d laugh and—
Screeeeeccccchhhhh.
That wasn’t her imagination! Clutching the covers to her chest, Emily sat up. Her mouth went dry. What was that sound? It seemed to be coming from right outside her window. But if that was the case, why wasn’t Charley barking up a storm?
The Windigo! It was the Windigo, right outside her window! Did he think she stole the necklace? Was he here to make sure it was never found? Was he going to eat her up?
Screeeeeccccchhhhh.
Olivia sat up, rubbed her eyes, and then stared at Emily. “Is that tree rubbing against the house again?” She yawned. “Don’t laugh, but it scared me silly last night until I realized what it was.”
Emily let out a relieved snort. “Yeah, it’s doing it again.” She inched back down under the covers.
Olivia rolled over, turning her back to Emily.
Screeeeeccccchhhhh.
Just the tree against the house. Not the Windigo coming for her. Emily exhaled, letting her heart rate slow back down to normal. Just a tree. Not some type of bogeyman. She needed to get a grip. She was too old to believe in such things.
But for a minute there . . . she hadn’t been so sure.
What if there really was such a thing as a Windigo?
SIX
“May we see Ms. Harris, please?” Emily stared at the editor working behind the counter. He stood nearly as tall as her dad, but was much, much thinner. His shoulders stuck out to almost points. His gray hair was thin too. He looked kind of like the picture of Abraham Lincoln in their history book. All he needed was a beard.
“She’s covering a story right now.” Louis Farmer, editor of the paper, smiled. “May I help you ladies with something?”
Despite his smile, Mr. Farmer didn’t look nearly as friendly as Ms. Harris. Emily swallowed. “Um, we’re working on a project and needed to talk with her for a few minutes. Do you know where we can find her?”
“Oh, a school project. How fun.” His tone was disinterested. He glanced at his watch. “She should be back in a few minutes, if you’d like to wait.”
It wasn’t exactly a school project, but she’d never said it was. That wasn’t really lying, right? Emily looked at Olivia.
“We don’t want to be a bother. We’ll just wait outside.” Olivia moved toward the door.
“Whatever you wish. You’re more than welcome to wait inside. She’s covering the library’s new archival computer system.”
“We’ll catch up with her, Mr. Farmer.” Emily opened the door. “Thank you.”
They left the Kitchigami Journal office and headed to the library. If Ms. Harris was finished with her story, they’d pass her. As they walked, folks raking leaves and mulching flower beds stopped to wave or say hello. Everyone seemed to be outside, enjoying the last weeks of summer before snow took over the Upper Peninsula.
“Shouldn’t you be in prison for stealing or something?”
Emily and Olivia stopped to turn at the corner of Houghton and Jack Pine. Emily spun, facing Rachel Zinn, who stood outside the Coffee Place with her circle of friends. Gretchen wasn’t with her.
Rachel’s nose was in the air. “You stole Mary Dancer’s necklace, and you should be in jail, just like your mom. Maybe you two could bunk together.”
Her entire body stiff, Emily couldn’t even speak. Her throat was tight. Was that what everyone in town thought?
“Why are you so mean, Rachel?” Olivia hollered out. “She didn’t steal any necklace.”
Rachel huffed. “Of course you’d take up for her. She’s your best friend. But I heard her, and so did Gretchen.”
Emily found her voice. “I never said I was going to take Mrs. Dancer’s necklace.” She curled her hands into fists at her sides.
“Yes, you did.” Rachel giggled as one of her friends leaned over and whispered something in her ear. “Guess it runs in the family, huh? You and your mom. Is your little brother a criminal too, or is it only the women in your family who belong behind bars?”
Olivia grabbed Emily’s arm. “I don’t know what you think you heard, Rachel, but she never said she planned to take Mrs. Dancer’s necklace.”
Rachel just laughed. Emily took a step toward the street, her heart pumping blood so fast that her ears rang. Say something. Her throat was tight, and her eyes burned.
Olivia held tight to Emily’s arm. “Just let it go. It’s not even worth it.” She tossed a glare at the laughing girls. “She’s not worth it.”
She had to tug hard on Emily before Emily allowed Olivia to lead her down Jack Pine Street. Emily didn’t want to leave while the girls were laughing. “I can’t believe she brought Mom into this. And Timmy! How dare she?”
Olivia shook her head as she stopped on the sidewalk to stare at Emily. “I don’t know what’s wrong with her, but we should ignore her.”
Emily’s throat was still tight. “That’s easy for you to say. She’s not picking on you and your family.”
“I’m sorry.?
?? Olivia gave her a hug. “Come on, let’s go see Ms. Harris. If we can clear your name, then Rachel will be proven wrong.”
“And she’d better be doing some serious apologizing.”
But even an apology wouldn’t stop the town from talking about her mother. Emily lifted her head high and did her best not to cry. She’d show them she was not like her mother. Finally, they reached their destination and left Rachel and her clique behind.
“Why, hello, girls.”
They stopped and turned to find Ms. Harris exiting the side door. “What perfect timing to see you again so soon.”
“We were looking for you,” Emily said.
“Really?” Ms. Harris’s eyebrows rose as she smiled. “Your father will let you do the interview?”
“No. Well, he hasn’t said yet.” Emily hadn’t exactly asked him, but that was beside the point. “But I do think I have a story for you, Ms. Harris.” Although Emily was having second thoughts. It was like accusing someone of stealing with no proof. Just like Emily felt Mrs. Dancer had accused her.
“Please, call me Inetta. When you say Ms. Harris, I feel really old.” She waggled her eyebrows and grinned. “Why don’t we grab a pastry at the Suomi Café? I could use a little snack since I skipped lunch today.”
Emily looked at Olivia, who shrugged. “Sure, I guess.”
They walked along Houghton Street, a gentle breeze dancing leaves along the street. “Did you know the library just received the latest technological archiving system? The grant request was finally approved. It’s a nice setup. I’m impressed.”
Emily nodded. It’d been a long time since she’d been in the library.
They reached the café and stepped inside. The aroma of Finnish cardamom bread filled the Suomi Café as they entered. The worn plank floors of the restaurant and the cracked leather booths showed the place was well loved and well used. Emily caught a glimpse of a panukakkua, a custard pancake drizzled with hot raspberry syrup, on the passing waitress’s tray. Her stomach growled in response.
“Let’s grab a seat here.” Inetta pulled out a chair at a corner table and motioned for the girls to do the same.
The waitress came immediately. Inetta ordered a cup of coffee and a pulla, a Finnish sweet roll, for herself, then looked at Emily. “What would you girls like?”
“Oh, nothing.” Probably a good thing she’d left her savings at home. She’d spend every dime she had on panukakkua.
“I’d like a glass of water, please,” Olivia said.
“You can’t let me sit here and eat something all by myself. You simply must have something. My treat.” Inetta smiled at the waitress. “Sweet things, they don’t want to ruin their dinners.” She darted her gaze between Emily and Olivia. “How about you girls split something?”
“We’ll share a panukakkua,” Emily blurted out. Her taste buds were already dancing. “And I’ll have a water too.”
“You can’t have water with such a delicious pastry. How about a mocha?” Inetta asked.
Emily nodded.
Inetta smiled at the waitress. “And two mochas, please.”
The waitress hurried away but returned within moments to set steaming coffee drinks in front of them, then rushed off again. Emily could only hope the lady didn’t mention her being in the café to Dad or Naomi. This could be a little difficult to explain.
“So”—Inetta stirred a packet of sweetener into her coffee—“what’s this maybe story you have for me?”
Emily looked at Olivia. Maybe this was a bad idea. It felt wrong to accuse Mrs. Cooper without any proof. But how was she going to find out if Mrs. Dancer’s necklace had been sold to the pawnshop if she didn’t tell Inetta?
“We heard there’s a possibility that Mrs. Dancer’s missing necklace might have been sold at this pawnshop in Marquette.” Olivia handed the slip of paper with the name, address, and phone number on it to Inetta.
That was perfect. No names, no accusations. Emily smiled at her clever best friend.
Inetta read the paper. “Are you sure about this?”
Emily shrugged. “We can’t be positive.”
“Because you can’t go to Marquette to check it out.”
“Right.” Olivia nodded.
The waitress chose that moment to return to the table with the Finnish pastries. She set them on the table, refilled Inetta’s coffee, then disappeared behind the counter.
Emily’s mouth watered as she used the fork to cut the panukakkua in half. The custard pancake steamed, and the hot raspberry sauce drizzled to the plate. The delicate pastry was light as Emily stuck a bite into her mouth. Her taste buds sang as she closed her eyes and savored.
Inetta laughed. “I’m glad you decided to have something after all.”
Heat spread across Emily’s cheeks, but Olivia’s and Inetta’s grins made her smile too. “I love these.”
“We can tell.” Olivia giggled.
“Now, about this pawnshop?”
Emily swallowed, then took a sip of her drink. “Yes, you’re right. We don’t know that the necklace is at that shop, but we suspect it might be.”
“Interesting.” Inetta took a bite of her pulla, chewing slowly. “Why would you think the necklace might be there?”
Emily’s face flushed with heat again. She took another sip of her mocha to wash down the bite she’d just swallowed. How could she tell Inetta enough without accusing Mrs. Cooper or getting Dave in trouble?
Olivia wiped her mouth and then wadded her paper napkin into a ball. She set it on the table in front of her. “We overheard someone say that some jewelry from Rock Harbor had been sold there recently.”
“Eavesdropping?” Inetta asked.
“More like someone told someone who told someone else who told us.” Olivia finished her mocha.
“Ah. You don’t want to tell me.” Inetta laid her fork across her empty plate.
The waitress returned with the check. Inetta thanked her. She tossed a couple of bills on the table, then stood. Olivia and Emily followed her as she wove through the restaurant and stepped out onto the street.
Emily cleared her throat. “I just know what it’s like to be accused of something you didn’t do.”
Inetta stopped at the intersection. “How about I go to this pawnshop and see if the necklace is there? If it is, I’ll call Sheriff Kaleva and he can do his job. If it’s not, I’ll question the pawnshop owner to see if anyone tried to sell it. I’ll let you girls know what he says. How’s that sound?”
“Perfect.” Emily grinned so wide her face hurt. “Thank you, Inetta.”
“I know you want to clear your name, Emily. I’ll help as I can, but know that I can only go so far on your theories.” Inetta smiled gently. “I hope you’ll learn to trust me. There will come a point and time when you’ll have to tell me more than you really want to. Please remember I’m a journalist, which means I protect my sources. I won’t say anything unless you tell me I can. Okay?”
Emily nodded. So did Olivia.
“Okay then.” Inetta let out a long breath. “I’ll have time to run over to Marquette tomorrow before lunch. Why don’t we meet back here tomorrow afternoon, about the same time as today?”
“Sure,” Emily said.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” Inetta headed toward the newspaper office.
The girls crossed the intersection and walked to Cottage Avenue. Rock Harbor’s streets were packed with people strolling around, a sign of late summer’s high traffic. Flyers about the big surfing championship filled every storefront window.
Emily paused as she read one of the advertisements. “Malia Spencer’s still in town?”
“Yeah. I heard her tell the surf team that she’d be here for the next two weeks until the championship. She’ll be giving demonstrations there.” Olivia stared at Emily. “Why? What are you thinking?”
“Well, she was at the festival. Remember, we saw her?”
“So? Just about everybody in Rock Harbor was at the festival.” br />
“But we saw her. From our booth.”
Olivia shook her head. “Are you saying Malia Spencer, famous Hawaiian surfer who probably has more money than she knows what to do with, stole Mrs. Dancer’s necklace?” She chuckled.
“Well, put like that . . .” It did sound silly. But someone had to have taken the necklace.
Grabbing her hand, Olivia tugged her toward the O’Reilly home. “Come on, forget about Malia as a suspect.”
Emily fell into step with her best friend. “You’re right.”
Olivia slowed as they reached the end of the driveway. “You know, just about everybody in Rock Harbor will be at the championship too.”
“Yeah?”
“Well, what better place to nose around to see if there’s anything new about the missing necklace?”
“That’s in a couple of weeks, Olivia.”
“So?”
Emily shook her head. “That’s too close to my birthday. I want to find out who really took the necklace before then. Otherwise, I won’t get my puppy!” Saying it out loud made it feel too real. Tears burned her eyes.
Olivia gave her a sideways hug. “Maybe Inetta will find the necklace tomorrow, and this will all be over for you.”
“I hope so.” Emily led the way through the back door into the house.
Because she had to have this mess all cleared up before her birthday.
She just had to get her puppy!
SEVEN
“Yeah, it’s cool. We got new team wet suits and board bags and leashes.” Josh’s blue eyes sparkled.
Emily stood on the outskirts of Josh’s group hovering by the student bulletin board in the hall, hanging on his every word.
“I thought you said the team was hard up for funds.” Brandon, the captain of the team, shoved Josh’s shoulder in a playful way. “Have you been holding out on us?”
“Nah, man. These were courtesy of a donor.”
“A donor? Who could afford all that?” Brandon asked.
“Don’t know. Anonymous.” Josh shrugged. “Who cares? We needed the stuff. I’m just glad we got everything before the championship.”
An anonymous donor dropping down hundreds of dollars? Emily pressed her lips together and leaned in closer.