family, I thought it was only right that he got the letters. I didn’t let on about the jewel box though. That was Mum’s. But the letters were okay and no use to me.”
“Was he happy with the letters?” asked Lucy.
“Happy?” cackled Simpson. “After he read one of the letters, he had a damned conniption fit. Started doing this dance around my living room. Crazy as a coot, like I said before. Spinning around, dervish-like. Never seen anything like it in my life and hope I never will again. Bit scary if you know what I mean.”
Suddenly Meg dashed through the screen door. She was deathly afraid of thunder and lightning and no one noticed the storm that blew in during the past hour. Everyone dashed towards the living room and tried to trap the poor dog. Tail between her legs, Meg quickly hunkered down under the kitchen table, quivering from fear and daring anyone to approach. Meanwhile Roger tried to attach the screen mesh back on the door, but it was obvious that the whole thing needed replacing. From what Hannah could see, bucketfuls of rain came pouring in through a gaping hole as large as … well, a dog.
As the excitement died down the grownups cleared away the dishes. The children were excused and scurried upstairs to Lucy’s room. Settling down on cushions and bed, they dissected the latest news.
Looking around at the sea blue room Hannah noted all the new additions to Lucy’s eccentric décor. Scattered throughout the room were a varied assembly of toys and oddities. On a large white table standing under Lucy’s window was a wooden castle, protected by a large number of knights, some already engaged in a heated battle against marauding pirates. Catapults were strategically set up around the castle’s palisades, ready to launch Styrofoam rocks and crush the unwary.
In the far corner of the room, a tall bookshelf was sagging under the weight of volumes on shipwrecks, medieval times, pirates and fairies. On the floor beside the bed were over 100 toy horses, some plastic, some ceramic and some stuffed. And on the walls were all of Lucy’s works of art, from multi-coloured mosaics to realistic renderings of the PEI shoreline.
On a narrow shelf above a night table sat a genuine stuffed squirrel, its black fur glistening while its beady glass eyes stared down at the assembled guests. “Wow, this is great! Where did you get it?” enthused Hannah. She was a real connoisseur of all things dead and stuffed. After all, wasn’t she the proud owner of a stuffed and mounted skunk? Her mom got it from an old high school display. She also had some mummified bats and squirrels which her dad had found in the attic of their country place.
“Oh, that was from Wayne,” remarked Lucy. “He thought of getting into a new hobby and tried taxidermy. I think he kind of missed on this one though. The squirrel looks like it was crazy or something. Look at that crooked grin, and his eyes are definitely lop-sided. I think it was road kill and this is the best that Wayne could do.”
“Can we discuss the case, or are we here for a tea party?” chided Jack, clearly impatient to jump into the newest developments. “When Malone was at the graveyard he was holding a letter. It looked like the letter was directing him to the hiding place of the locket. I bet it’s the same letter that Wayne gave him.”
“But I thought it was the journal that listed all the hiding places of Black Sam’s treasure.” Emily had a pained look on her face. Things were getting a bit complicated for her and she decided that she was a much happier camper playing with Lucy’s castle.
“Hmmm. We’ll have to think about that,” muttered Jack thoughtfully. Rubbing his chin with his hand, he crossed his lanky legs Indian-style and closed his eyes. Lucy quickly grabbed her pad of paper and scribbled a Do Not Disturb message and gently taped it to Jack’s chest. Unaware of what just happened, Jack continued to puzzle out the journal and letter
“Was he happy with the letters?” asked Lucy.
“Happy?” cackled Simpson. “After he read one of the letters, he had a damned conniption fit. Started doing this dance around my living room. Crazy as a coot, like I said before. Spinning around, dervish-like. Never seen anything like it in my life and hope I never will again. Bit scary if you know what I mean.”
Suddenly Meg dashed through the screen door. She was deathly afraid of thunder and lightning and no one noticed the storm that blew in during the past hour. Everyone dashed towards the living room and tried to trap the poor dog. Tail between her legs, Meg quickly hunkered down under the kitchen table, quivering from fear and daring anyone to approach. Meanwhile Roger tried to attach the screen mesh back on the door, but it was obvious that the whole thing needed replacing. From what Hannah could see, bucketfuls of rain came pouring in through a gaping hole as large as … well, a dog.
As the excitement died down the grownups cleared away the dishes. The children were excused and scurried upstairs to Lucy’s room. Settling down on cushions and bed, they dissected the latest news.
Looking around at the sea blue room Hannah noted all the new additions to Lucy’s eccentric décor. Scattered throughout the room were a varied assembly of toys and oddities. On a large white table standing under Lucy’s window was a wooden castle, protected by a large number of knights, some already engaged in a heated battle against marauding pirates. Catapults were strategically set up around the castle’s palisades, ready to launch Styrofoam rocks and crush the unwary.
In the far corner of the room, a tall bookshelf was sagging under the weight of volumes on shipwrecks, medieval times, pirates and fairies. On the floor beside the bed were over 100 toy horses, some plastic, some ceramic and some stuffed. And on the walls were all of Lucy’s works of art, from multi-coloured mosaics to realistic renderings of the PEI shoreline.
On a narrow shelf above a night table sat a genuine stuffed squirrel, its black fur glistening while its beady glass eyes stared down at the assembled guests. “Wow, this is great! Where did you get it?” enthused Hannah. She was a real connoisseur of all things dead and stuffed. After all, wasn’t she the proud owner of a stuffed and mounted skunk? Her mom got it from an old high school display. She also had some mummified bats and squirrels which her dad had found in the attic of their country place.
“Oh, that was from Wayne,” remarked Lucy. “He thought of getting into a new hobby and tried taxidermy. I think he kind of missed on this one though. The squirrel looks like it was crazy or something. Look at that crooked grin, and his eyes are definitely lop-sided. I think it was road kill and this is the best that Wayne could do.”
“Can we discuss the case, or are we here for a tea party?” chided Jack, clearly impatient to jump into the newest developments. “When Malone was at the graveyard he was holding a letter. It looked like the letter was directing him to the hiding place of the locket. I bet it’s the same letter that Wayne gave him.”
“But I thought it was the journal that listed all the hiding places of Black Sam’s treasure.” Emily had a pained look on her face. Things were getting a bit complicated for her and she decided that she was a much happier camper playing with Lucy’s castle.
“Hmmm. We’ll have to think about that,” muttered Jack thoughtfully. Rubbing his chin with his hand, he crossed his lanky legs Indian-style and closed his eyes. Lucy quickly grabbed her pad of paper and scribbled a Do Not Disturb message and gently taped it to Jack’s chest. Unaware of what just happened, Jack continued to puzzle out the journal and letter
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