Pie

  “Is it yours?” asked Charlie.

  Alice shook her head. She wasn’t allowed to wear earrings yet.

  “Is it your mom’s?”

  Alice shook her head again. Her mother wore earrings sometimes when she got dressed up — she even owned a pair of gold hoops that looked a lot like the one Alice had just found, except that her mother’s earrings were clip-ons. This earring was the kind of hoop you had to have pierced ears to be able to wear.

  “Maybe some lady who lived in the house before your family moved in dropped the earring on the floor a long time ago, and you just didn’t find it until now,” said Charlie.

  “Look at my hand,” Alice said.

  “What about it?”

  “There’s no dust on it at all. I vacuum under the radiator every time I clean my room, so I would have found it by now.”

  “Then how do you think it got there?” asked Charlie.

  That’s when Alice realized what it was she was holding in her hand.

  “This must be the clink!” she cried.

  “I thought you said you heard it in the middle of the night,” said Charlie.

  “I did.”

  “Other than Santa Claus, who comes to visit people in the middle of the night?”

  Alice’s heart began to race.

  “Maybe it wasn’t a visitor,” she said excitedly. “Maybe it was a catnapper!”

  “A what?”

  “A catnapper. She must have crawled up the tree and opened the window from the outside — then she grabbed Lardo, and on the way out she dropped her earring, clink.”

  “You think it was a woman?” asked Charlie.

  “How else do you explain the earring?”

  “Pirates wear earrings,” said Charlie defensively.

  Alice gave him a look.

  “Okay, fine,” he said. “It probably wasn’t a pirate. But who in their right mind would sneak into somebody’s house in the middle of the night to steal a grumpy old cat?”

  “I don’t know,” Alice said. “But Sky King and Penny always say you should trust your hunches, and I have a hunch that somebody crawled in my window last night and took Lardo and that whoever it was, was wearing this earring. And you know what else? I bet it’s the same person who broke into the pie shop.”

  “But why?” asked Charlie.

  “I don’t know,” said Alice. “But I’m sure if we put our heads together, we can figure it out.”

  A car door slammed outside, and a minute later Alice heard her father calling.

  “Alice! Come down here, would you, please? It’s important.”

  “I’d better go see what he wants,” she said. “Come on.”

  Charlie followed Alice down the stairs and into the living room, where Mr. and Mrs. Anderson were waiting.

  “Hello, Charlie,” said Alice’s father.

  “Hello, Mr. Anderson. Mrs. Anderson,” said Charlie politely.

  “I’m glad you’re both here. I understand you two were the ones who discovered the break-in at the pie shop,” said Mr. Anderson.

  “Yes, sir,” said Charlie.

  Alice was surprised. “How did you know about that?” she asked her father.

  “Chief Decker called and told us to meet him down at the station,” Alice’s mother said. “He wanted to talk to us about the key.”

  “What key?” Alice asked.

  “It was all a big mix-up,” her father explained. “The lock on the pie shop didn’t appear to have been tampered with, so the police were convinced that whoever broke in used a key to open the door.”

  “Until I explained to them why that was impossible,” said Alice’s mother. “There was only one copy of the key, and Polly was wearing it on a chain around her neck when she was buried.”

  “No, she wasn’t,” Alice said, suddenly realizing what it was that had seemed wrong about Polly when she’d looked at her at the funeral. She hadn’t been wearing the chain with the key on it!

  “I saw it with my own two eyes, Alice,” her mother said.

  “You couldn’t have seen the key,” said Alice. “It wasn’t there.”

  “Don’t sass your mother,” Alice’s father warned.

  “I’m not sassing,” Alice told him. “I know for a fact that Aunt Polly wasn’t wearing that key around her neck when she was buried.”

  “And I know for a fact that she was,” her mother insisted. “The pie shop was unlocked when Mr. Ogden went to pick up Lardo. He assumed someone had a key, so he locked the door from the inside, and pulled it closed when he left. Or so he says.”

  “The break-in happened sometime between then and when you two arrived,” said Alice’s father.

  “So the obvious explanation is that Mr. Ogden didn’t lock the door properly,” her mother finished.

  “But that still doesn’t explain why Aunt Polly wasn’t wearing the —”

  Alice’s father gave Alice a stern look, so she let the matter drop.

  “I suppose you know your aunt’s Blueberry medals were stolen,” Alice’s father said. “The police are dusting the place for fingerprints right now.”

  Before Alice could even open her mouth to explain that she and Charlie had brought the medals home with them, her mother took off on one of her rants.

  “If you ask me, it’s all Mayor Needleman’s fault,” she said. “He’s been so busy campaigning for reelection he hasn’t been doing the job he was elected to do in the first place. He ought to be beefing up the police force to protect us from crimes like this. Instead he’s been kissing babies and shaking hands and posing for every photographer that pushy wife of his can manage to shove him in front of.”

  “The medals weren’t stolen, Mom,” Alice said, when her mother finally paused to take a breath. “They’re in a box outside in the basket of my bike.”

  “It was my idea,” Charlie explained. “I thought it would be safer than leaving them in the shop. I guess we should have told Chief Decker.”

  “The police recovered a baseball bat they think the burglar might have used during the crime,” said Mr. Anderson. “You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, Charlie?”

  Charlie turned a shade of red Alice had never seen a person turn before. “It’s mine,” he admitted sheepishly. “I must have left it behind by accident.”

  “What a colossal waste of time this day has turned out to be!” Alice’s mother said, collapsing in a chair. “Bring me some aspirin, George. I feel another headache coming on.”

  Alice’s father went off to get the aspirin, and her mother closed her eyes and began rubbing the bridge of her nose.

  “Maybe I ought to get going,” Charlie said.

  “Now?” asked Alice.

  “Well, I promised Miss Gurke I’d pick up a few things for her at the store this afternoon. I’ve got the list right here.” He patted his back pocket. “She told me to get there by five. She gets really frosted if I show up late.”

  “You can’t leave now,” Alice told Charlie. “You have to help me figure out who catnapped Lardo.”

  Alice’s mother opened one eye.

  “Did you just say what I think you said?”

  Alice swallowed hard.

  “I know you’re probably going to think I just imagined this, Mom, but I’m absolutely positive that somebody crawled in my window in the middle of the night last night and stole Lardo. And whoever it was, dropped this.” Alice held up the earring.

  “George!” cried Mrs. Anderson. “What’s taking you so long? I need that aspirin right now.”

  “And one more thing,” Alice said. “I have a hunch it’s the same person who broke into the pie shop.”

  “Enough!” barked Alice’s mother. “If I hear one more word about keys or cats or cockamamie ideas about people climbing through windows, wearing gold earrings, I promise you my head is going to jump right off my neck and fly around this room like a bald eagle.”

  Alice’s father arrived with the aspirin and shooed Alice and Charlie out of the
room. Charlie seemed relieved.

  “I’d better get going,” he told Alice again. “Thanks for lunch. And good luck finding Lardo.”

  “What do you mean, ‘good luck’?” Alice asked. “I thought you were going to help me.”

  Charlie began shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

  “I’m awful busy,” he said, looking down at his shoes. “And, like I said, Miss Gurke is waiting….”

  “Did anyone ever tell you that you’re a terrible liar, Charlie Erdling?”

  “I’m not lying,” he said. “I really do have a delivery to make. I’ll show you the shopping list if you don’t believe me.”

  “Don’t bother. I get the message,” Alice said. “You don’t think Lardo’s been catnapped, do you?”

  Charlie looked down at the ground.

  “Probably not,” he said softly.

  “Fine. Then I don’t want your help anyway,” Alice told him. “The last thing I need is somebody else who thinks my imagination is too active.”

  “Aww, don’t be sore, Alice,” said Charlie.

  “Don’t tell me how to be,” Alice snapped. “I’m fine just the way I am, which is more than I can say for you.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Charlie.

  “Figure it out for yourself,” said Alice. “Oh, I forgot, your brain doesn’t work right. Maybe you better ask your little girlfriend, Nora, to help you figure it out.”

  Charlie frowned and threw one long leg over the crossbar of his bike. Before he left, he looked Alice straight in the eye.

  “I may not be the smartest guy in the world,” he told her, “but I’ll tell you one thing I know: Your aunt Polly never would have talked to a person the way you just talked to me. And she wouldn’t have thought very highly of somebody who did, either.”

  Without another word, he pushed off, rolled down the driveway, and rode away.

  CHOCOLATE CREAM PIE

  1 cup sugar

  3 TBS cornstarch

  2 TBS cocoa powder

  pinch of salt

  3 cups milk

  3 egg yolks

  1 tsp vanilla

  1 TBS butter

  In a saucepan, combine the sugar, cornstarch, cocoa powder, and salt.

  In a separate bowl, beat egg yolks and milk. Add to saucepan and blend.

  Cook over medium heat, stirring constantly until mixture thickens. Remove from heat.

  Stir in vanilla and butter. Pour into baked pie shell. Cool. Refrigerate. Serve with whipped cream.

  Reminder: George’s favorite. (Birthday: February 9)

  Chapter Seven

  After Charlie left, Alice went and sat on the porch steps. Hugging her knees tightly to her chest, she closed her eyes as a wave of sadness washed over her. Nothing was right with the world anymore. Her aunt Polly was gone, her mother was annoyed, and now Charlie was mad at her, too. She shouldn’t have said what she’d said to him, but what was she supposed to do? Lardo had been catnapped, she was sure of it, and nobody would even listen to her. Aunt Polly had always listened. Alice remembered a time years ago when her aunt had asked her what she wanted to be when she grew up. Alice had said that more than anything in the world, she wanted to be a squirrel. Most people would have laughed, but Polly didn’t. Instead she told Alice that she would make sure to leave plenty of walnuts out on the porch during the winter months so that Alice wouldn’t have to dig around in the snow when she got hungry.

  Alice didn’t even realize that she was crying until she felt a teardrop fall on her bare leg. With her eyes still closed she began to sing —

  Who’s going to leave me walnuts?

  Who’s going to make me pie?

  Who’s going to love me as I am?

  Why did you have to die?

  “Ah-hem … ah-hem.”

  It took a minute for it to register that the sound Alice had heard was someone clearing his throat. Lifting her head, she was mortified to discover Charlie Erdling standing at the bottom of the steps, staring up at her.

  “What are you doing here?” Alice asked, swiping at her hot tears with the back of her hand.

  “I lost my shopping list,” Charlie said. “It must have fallen out of my pocket. Do you mind if I look around to see if I dropped it here?”

  “Go ahead,” Alice said, too embarrassed to even look at him. It was bad enough that she’d been mean to him, but she could only imagine what he must think of her now that he’d heard her singing to herself about walnuts. Part of her wanted to explain, but most of her wanted to crawl under a rock and hide.

  Charlie quickly retraced his steps, but he didn’t find the shopping list.

  “Oh, well,” he said. “Hopefully, Miss Gurke won’t kill me if I can’t remember everything.”

  He started to leave, but Alice stopped him. She could almost feel her aunt Polly’s hand on the small of her back, pushing her to step forward and say what needed to be said.

  “I’m sorry,” Alice told Charlie. “For the crummy thing I said about your brain. I won’t blame you if you decide to hate my guts forever.”

  “I don’t hate your guts,” said Charlie. “I know I’m no genius, but I can’t help the way I am.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with the way you are,” Alice said. “Aunt Polly was the smartest person I’ve ever known and she always used to say, ‘That Charlie Erdling has a good head on his shoulders.’”

  “Yeah?”

  Alice could tell that Charlie was pleased.

  “And I was only teasing about Nora,” she added. “Who would want to have a stuck-up person like that for a girlfriend anyway, right?”

  “Right,” said Charlie. “I mean, good gravy, just ‘cause she looks like Penny from Sky King doesn’t mean I want to marry her or anything, you know?”

  Alice felt a little twinge of something she couldn’t quite identify.

  “You really think Nora Needleman looks like Penny?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” said Charlie. “But so would you if your hair was a little longer.”

  Alice could have kissed him right then and there for saying that, except that the idea of kissing Charlie Erdling, or any other boy for that matter, made her want to throw up.

  “Good luck with Miss Gurke,” she said.

  “Thanks,” said Charlie, and he got on his bike and rode off again toward the A&P, only this time he turned around and waved before he sailed around the corner and out of sight.

  It was not long after this that Alice noticed the folded-up piece of paper wedged between two boards of the porch step she had been sitting on. It was Charlie’s shopping list. Alice unfolded it and began to read what he had written.

  1 Box Band-aydes

  1 can vegtible shortning

  1 Bag sand

  The handwriting was terrible, and Charlie hadn’t been kidding when he’d said that he wasn’t very good at spelling. Alice started to refold the paper when the fourth and final item on the list caught her eye.

  1 duzzin cans Sardeens

  Suddenly everything fell into place, and Alice knew for sure that her hunch had been right.

  • • •

  Charlie was just leaving the A&P when Alice arrived, breathless from having ridden her bike like the wind to catch up with him.

  “What are you doing here?” Charlie asked when he saw her.

  Alice was panting so hard she couldn’t speak, so she handed Charlie the shopping list.

  “Gee,” he said, “it sure was nice of you to come all this way to bring it to me.”

  He unfolded the paper and ran his finger down the items on the list.

  “Let me see, I remembered to get the Band-Aids and I remembered to get the vegetable shortening. Drat, I forgot all about the sand. It’s too late to go to the hardware store now. I’ll have to do it tomorrow.”

  “What about the sardines?” Alice asked, having finally caught her breath.

  “Got ‘em,” said Charlie, holding up the paper bag of groceries.

/>   “No, I mean what about the sardines?” she said.

  “What about them?” Charlie asked.

  “Who do you know who likes sardines?”

  “Obviously, Miss Gurke does,” said Charlie. “Otherwise, why would she want twelve cans of them?”

  “Good question,” Alice said. “And you know what I think? I think the reason Miss Gurke needs all those sardines is because she’s the one who catnapped Lardo.”

  “Miss Gurke?” said Charlie incredulously.

  “The clues are all right there on the shopping list,” Alice told him, and she began ticking things off on her fingers. “She needs sand for his litter box, and the Band-Aids are for the scratches Lardo probably gave her when she snatched him.”

  “What about the vegetable shortening?” asked Charlie. “What’s that supposed to be for?”

  “That’s the most important clue of all,” Alice told him. “The reason she needs vegetable shortening is because she’s making a pie.”

  Charlie scratched his head.

  “Why would Miss Gurke have to steal your auntie’s cat if she wants to make a pie? Everybody and their uncle has been making pies around here lately, and none of them had to steal a cat to do it.”

  “It’s not the cat she needs — it’s the piecrust recipe. That’s what she was looking for when she broke into the pie shop, but she didn’t find it. So the next day, when The Ipsy News ran the story about Aunt Polly leaving the recipe to Lardo, she decided to catnap him.”

  “Wait a minute. Back up,” said Charlie. “You think Miss Gurke was the one who broke into the pie shop?”

  “I don’t think so — I know so,” said Alice. “I saw her steal the key.”

  “When?”

  “At the funeral. She reached into Aunt Polly’s casket and then she jerked her hand back out real quick. I didn’t realize it at the time, but she must have taken the key.”

  “Don’t get mad,” said Charlie, “but your mom said she saw the key.”