forefinger. “I remember Mr. Finnigan mentioned that you children wanted to search for a relative in the historical society archives. Is that right?”
The hair on my arms stood up on end. My porch swing lost its momentum and slowed to a gentle sway. I let a leg fall over the side and gave the floorboards another push with my toes.
“Can you tell me about this relative?”
“I don’t really know anything about her.”
My mind was screaming,
I was right! He
is
interested in Andora!
But I did my best to keep a calm expression on my face.
Dr. Girard clicked his pen. “Wasn’t she the real reason Colin took you to the museum?”
“How would you know that?”
He smiled coolly. “Mr. Finnigan is a good friend of mine.”
I looked at my leg dangling from the swing.
Dr. Girard wrote something in his tiny memo pad again. “You know, Andi, I could really use your help.”
“You could?” I asked.
“I don’t know how much your aunt has told you about me …”
“Just that you’re a history professor at Mike Pike.”
He winced. “I see you’ve learned the local nickname for the university. Anyway, for you to have an appreciation for research at such a young age, you must be a perceptive, intelligent girl. Your aunt may not have told you, but I’m a bit of an expert in Ohio history, and I’ve written books on the topic.”
“She did.” I didn’t add that I’d been leafing through those very books the moment he rang our doorbell.
“Excellent. I’d like to tell you about my project on Depression-era children, and then you can tell me yours.”
I sat up straighter in my seat. My feet hit the wooden boards of the porch with a thud. I swallowed hard. I didn’t tell him that I already knew he was writing a book about children from the Great Depressionbecause I’d overheard him talking to his agent about it. “Why do you think I’d know anything about that?”
“Mr. Finnigan has assisted me in my research for years. He mentioned that you visited the museum to search the archives for a lost relative born in 1929, and the relative’s name was Andora.”
My heart raced. What could he tell me about Andora? Did he know what happened to her? I had to know. “What do you know about Andora?”
He gave me a wry smile. “Why don’t you tell me how you learned about her first?”
I wondered if I should tell him what I knew. If I didn’t, there was no chance he’d tell me what he knew about Andora. I was pretty sure Dr. Girard wouldn’t offer information without getting something in return. I tried to look him in the eye, but he was wearing his dark sunglasses again.
And then I made my decision. It was the only option I had if I wanted to learn more.
CASE FILE NO. 15
It took only a few minutes for me to tell Dr. Girard what little information I was willing to share. I told him about the trunk, the baby clothes, the wooden blocks, and the birth announcement. I said nothing about the photograph of Andora or the encounter with Miss Addy.
Amelie appeared on the front porch with a tray of iced tea and Girl Scout Cookies. She simply raised her eyebrows when she heard me talking to Dr. Girard about Andora.
The history professor accepted a perspiring glass of iced tea from my aunt and removed his sunglasses. He took a gulp from his drink and said, “I’d like to see the items in the trunk and the cubby where you found the trunk.”
“Umm …” I stalled and chewed the inside of mycheek. “The attic is a mess right now. I mean, it’s worse than downstairs. It’ll take me some time to move stuff around so you can reach the cubby.”
“I don’t mind a mess.” He glanced down at his small memo pad and flipped through the pages. He’d taken notes so detailed that it seemed he’d written every word I’d said.
Part of me wanted to keep Andora to myself. I found her first. I shared her name. And what had Dr. Girard given me in return? “So what do
you
know about Andora?” I asked.
Dr. Girard
The hair on my arms stood up on end. My porch swing lost its momentum and slowed to a gentle sway. I let a leg fall over the side and gave the floorboards another push with my toes.
“Can you tell me about this relative?”
“I don’t really know anything about her.”
My mind was screaming,
I was right! He
is
interested in Andora!
But I did my best to keep a calm expression on my face.
Dr. Girard clicked his pen. “Wasn’t she the real reason Colin took you to the museum?”
“How would you know that?”
He smiled coolly. “Mr. Finnigan is a good friend of mine.”
I looked at my leg dangling from the swing.
Dr. Girard wrote something in his tiny memo pad again. “You know, Andi, I could really use your help.”
“You could?” I asked.
“I don’t know how much your aunt has told you about me …”
“Just that you’re a history professor at Mike Pike.”
He winced. “I see you’ve learned the local nickname for the university. Anyway, for you to have an appreciation for research at such a young age, you must be a perceptive, intelligent girl. Your aunt may not have told you, but I’m a bit of an expert in Ohio history, and I’ve written books on the topic.”
“She did.” I didn’t add that I’d been leafing through those very books the moment he rang our doorbell.
“Excellent. I’d like to tell you about my project on Depression-era children, and then you can tell me yours.”
I sat up straighter in my seat. My feet hit the wooden boards of the porch with a thud. I swallowed hard. I didn’t tell him that I already knew he was writing a book about children from the Great Depressionbecause I’d overheard him talking to his agent about it. “Why do you think I’d know anything about that?”
“Mr. Finnigan has assisted me in my research for years. He mentioned that you visited the museum to search the archives for a lost relative born in 1929, and the relative’s name was Andora.”
My heart raced. What could he tell me about Andora? Did he know what happened to her? I had to know. “What do you know about Andora?”
He gave me a wry smile. “Why don’t you tell me how you learned about her first?”
I wondered if I should tell him what I knew. If I didn’t, there was no chance he’d tell me what he knew about Andora. I was pretty sure Dr. Girard wouldn’t offer information without getting something in return. I tried to look him in the eye, but he was wearing his dark sunglasses again.
And then I made my decision. It was the only option I had if I wanted to learn more.
CASE FILE NO. 15
It took only a few minutes for me to tell Dr. Girard what little information I was willing to share. I told him about the trunk, the baby clothes, the wooden blocks, and the birth announcement. I said nothing about the photograph of Andora or the encounter with Miss Addy.
Amelie appeared on the front porch with a tray of iced tea and Girl Scout Cookies. She simply raised her eyebrows when she heard me talking to Dr. Girard about Andora.
The history professor accepted a perspiring glass of iced tea from my aunt and removed his sunglasses. He took a gulp from his drink and said, “I’d like to see the items in the trunk and the cubby where you found the trunk.”
“Umm …” I stalled and chewed the inside of mycheek. “The attic is a mess right now. I mean, it’s worse than downstairs. It’ll take me some time to move stuff around so you can reach the cubby.”
“I don’t mind a mess.” He glanced down at his small memo pad and flipped through the pages. He’d taken notes so detailed that it seemed he’d written every word I’d said.
Part of me wanted to keep Andora to myself. I found her first. I shared her name. And what had Dr. Girard given me in return? “So what do
you
know about Andora?” I asked.
Dr. Girard
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