Sloane’s dad helped her carry the concrete goose home.
“Wow. This is… not what I would have expected you to get at the farmers’ market.” He panted, struggling under its weight as they reached the front porch.
“Present for my grannies,” Sloane managed to say. It seemed like the only logical thing to do with it.
“Now that makes a little more sense.” Her dad set the goose down on their porch, and they both went in out of the blue twilight to the welcoming gold of the foyer. “What do you think about the soap I got?”
“I don’t like the smell of lavender,” Sloane said, and then fled upstairs. She knew it had been rude, but they were the only words her brain could come up with. She didn’t like lavender and she didn’t like the soap lady, either.
Her mom would have hated the soap lady.
Who did that woman think she was? Sloane wondered that night as she got around for bed. Scowling into the mirror, she brushed her teeth furiously. The soap lady hadn’t looked even a little bit like she would enjoy watching old cheesy Doctor Who episodes. And she definitely looked like someone who would make a face at the thought of bacon-and-banana-pepper pizza.
Having washed her face and changed into her pajamas, Sloane looked longingly at her phone. She thought about trying to video-chat Amelia, but what if one of the other Miller-Poes overheard them? She could only imagine the advice they’d have to give, when it was Amelia’s opinion Sloane wanted, not theirs.
In the end, Sloane spent a restless night, then scuttled off to school early the next morning. She found Amelia in Mr. Roth’s English classroom. However, one snarky look from Mackenzie stopped all of the words about to come out of Sloane’s mouth about her dad. No way was she going to say anything that might give her volleyball teammate more ammunition.
Besides, Amelia immediately wanted to talk about what they’d both found out. “Can you believe it?” The other girl gasped dramatically. “Who would have thought that after a hundred and thirty years, we—”
However, before she could finish, Sloane noticed Mackenzie sidling toward them under the pretense of sharpening her pencil. She shushed Amelia and in a loud voice said, “Yeah, I wished I’d found out more too. I mean, a hundred-and-thirty-year-old mystery, right? What can Mr. Roth possibly expect us to find?”
Squinting at them suspiciously, Mackenzie used the sharpener and sat back down.
In Amelia’s ear, Sloane hissed, “Not here. Want to meet at the library after softball practice?”
Amelia nodded her head vigorously. “It’ll be a secret meeting! Like there are spies watching us who have nefarious plans to steal our valuable clues!”
For once, Amelia wasn’t exaggerating even if she didn’t know it. That was exactly what this was like.
Though, to be fair, Sloane was also unaware of just how many people were watching them.
After school, Sloane went to softball practice and then stopped by her dad’s orthodontist office for a snack since it was on the way to the library. However, when Sloane got to the building, she didn’t find him with his hands in some poor kid’s mouth. Instead, her dad was in his office.
And the soap lady was there with him.
Today she was wearing a suit and had a number of pamphlets and sample retainers she was showing him.
At first, Sloane thought, Whew! He just knows her from work. That’s all.
Then she noticed that the soap lady was sitting on his desk.
And the two of them were laughing again. Together.
“Sloane!” Her dad spotted her and stood up abruptly. The woman on his desk quickly became the woman standing next to his desk, an awkward (and slightly terrified) smile plastered across her face as he continued, “This is—this is—”
“The soap lady,” Sloane finished for him.
“Oh, that’s just my hobby.” The soap lady’s smile was more awkward and terrified than ever. So much so that Sloane glanced over her shoulder to confirm that there wasn’t some sort of ginormous, hairy monster standing behind her. Nope, just Sloane. The soap lady continued, “My name is Cynthia Seife. It’s lovely to meet you, Sloane. I knew your mother professionally, and she was a wonderful woman.”
Wow. Cynthia Seife might as well have picked up one of the tooth scrapers and jammed it right into Sloane’s heart. In fact, it felt very much like she had.
“Yeah, my dad thought she was pretty great too.”
Her dad and Cynthia Seife exchanged a look. No—wait. They didn’t exchange it, they shared it. Like he and her mom used to do!
“I’d better be going.” Cynthia “The Soap Lady” Seife swept all her orthodontic gear into her briefcase and skedaddled out of the office. She squeezed past Sloane like she thought Sloane might bite.
A terrible realization occurred to Sloane. One that had nothing to do with either treasure or people who might be using her to find it. “Wait a second! She’s why you’re going to that dumb orthodontics dinner over in Archbold on Saturday rather than staying in and watching Doctor Who with me!”
“I thought you didn’t mind if I went!”
“That’s before I knew you were dumping me for someone else! Mom would never have done that to me!” Her dad’s eyes went wide with pain, but Sloane didn’t care. She was glad she’d hurt him. He totally deserved it, betraying Sloane like that. Betraying her mom like that! Sloane snatched up her backpack again. “Forget it! I’ve got to go. I’m meeting Amelia at the library.”
“Sloane, wait!” her dad called after her, but she ignored him. Instead, Sloane practically ran the distance from his office to the library.
What if her dad married this Cynthia Seife? What if he had a new family with her?
What if they moved houses? What if her dad was only fixing up their house so he could sell it?
That was the house where Sloane used to ride her tricycle in the attic in the winter while her mom chased her, pretending to be a monster. All because Sloane had once been scared that there might be monsters up there. Her mom had done it so that when Sloane thought of the monsters, she’d also think about laughing and having fun together.
What if she had to move into a new house where there were just monsters in the attic and no memories of laughter?
Sloane already felt like she wasn’t really living her own life at school. What if she lost her life at home too?
She pushed open the glass library doors and trudged up the steps. She found Amelia waiting for her at one of the research tables. The other girl was wearing a trench coat and brimmed hat over the black turtleneck and leggings she’d worn when breaking into the historical society the other day. Sloane assumed that this was the other girl’s take on what a spy would wear to a secret meeting.
A box filled with old letters sat on the table in front of her.
“What’s got you so upset?” Amelia asked as Sloane sat down.
Sloane’s eyes almost bugged out of her head. “What makes you think I’m upset about something? I’m not upset about something.”
“Well, you’re playing with your ponytail, and you only ever do that when you’re upset or nervous,” Amelia pointed out.
Sloane realized that she was, in fact, playing with her ponytail. None of her other friends had ever picked up on that before. If Mackenzie ever had, she would have already found a way to use that knowledge for evil.
Everything finally came tumbling out, as if Sloane had stuffed so much back down into her soul that there wasn’t room for anything else.
Amelia listened solemnly, and when Sloane was done, the other girl clasped her hands together, eyes misty with emotion. “You feel it is an insult to the memory of your beloved mother for your dad to date. He should spend his nights weeping by her photograph, bringing flowers to her grave, and casting himself upon her tombstone—”
“No, no, no! Nothing like that. Jeez.” Sloane gnawed at some tendrils of hair. “It’s just that I think Granny Kitty is right about him figuring out how to live his life again. But I’m not sure I’m figuring out how to live mine, and—and—Amelia, I’m really sorry about being mean to you. Before, I mean. Like, not just when we started this project. But even before it.”
“Oh. Well.” Amelia blinked rapidly. “That’s okay. You weren’t ever really mean to me.”
“No, it isn’t okay, and I was. And I’m sorry.” It was on the tip of Sloane’s tongue to confess everything. To tell Amelia that it was her fault that everyone had been calling her “Yeti” this past month. But she just couldn’t—quite—go that far.
Because they were definitely becoming friends—and that would stop the second Amelia knew the truth.
Sloane would be left with nothing but fake friends like Mackenzie, who only liked her because she could spike the ball.
Thinking the crisis had passed, Amelia glanced around. Making sure there weren’t any other seventh graders in the library—just Milton doing a Harry Potter sock puppet show for some elementary kids over in the corner—she shoved a book in Sloane’s direction before burying her nose in a book of her own.
“Just casually read your book,” Amelia whispered. “In case anyone is watching.”
Like who? Bunny? Milton’s sock puppets?
Sloane opened her book and pretended to read.
“Ssssmmmunn ssnntt muh tha baahxxx uh ledderrrss,” Amelia mumbled through pressed lips.
“Excuse me?” Sloane said it too loudly, and apparently Bunny had been listening. He came over with his tail wagging and his tongue hanging out. She scratched his ears.
“Shh!” Amelia looked around furtively and then muttered again, “Ssssmmmunn ssnntt muh tha baahxxx uh ledderrrss!”
“Okay, I really have no idea what you’re saying!” Sloane hissed.
Amelia scooted farther down in her chair and drew her hat to the tip of her nose. She still whispered, but at least she moved her lips this time. “Someone sent me that box of letters. It might be someone from school and it might be someone who watched the video I posted on YouTube. Right now, I’m guessing maybe Mr. Roth or Principal Stuckey. But it’s got to be someone who wants us to find the jewels.”
Still pretending to read her book, Sloane casually hooked the box with one finger and tugged it into her lap. Bunny peered at them with interest.
“These are from Jacob to Thomas. And Thomas to Jacob!” Sloane gasped.
“Shhhh!” Amelia warned again. “Some of them are. And then others are from Charles to Oscar.”
“What? They knew each other? No way!” Sloane thumbed through them and saw that Amelia was right. Meanwhile, Bunny realized they weren’t treats and looked disappointed. “Okay, so Charles and Oscar knew each other somehow. We also know that Oscar lived somewhere in Toledo’s Old West End and was mysteriously rich until one day he mysteriously wasn’t. And we know that Charles went and lived with his grandparents in Toledo for a while, but by the late 1930s he was back in Wauseon.”
“He was back in this area, but we don’t know that he ever lived in Wauseon. Maybe instead he was living in the Hotel Waldorf!” Still pretending to read her book, Amelia pulled out the postcard Sloane had found and slid it across the table. “That was a thing a lot of people used to do, you know. Live in hotels.”
“It was not.”
“It was so.”
“She’s right.” Belinda came over to get Bunny. She had a specially designed halter with pouches on either side that allowed him to carry books that she needed to shelve.
She seemed extremely well informed about local history. Granted, she was a librarian, but still.
And she always seemed to be mysteriously around, listening.
Belinda sat down next to them. “If you want, I can show you how to look up census records, since you can’t just search for them online. You have to have a subscription, which the library does.”
Hmm. Sloane and Amelia exchanged a look. Had the librarian sent them the box of letters? If so, she was hiding it well now. Reluctantly, they agreed, and handed her Amelia’s Chromebook.
“The census keeps track of where every person in the country lives once every ten years,” Belinda explained as she tapped at the keyboard. “When do you want to look?”
That was a good question. Sloane pulled out the postcard of the Hotel Waldorf. “You don’t have any idea when this dates to, do you?”
“Haven’t a clue. That’s Milton’s area of expertise, not mine.” They all looked over at the museum curator. He was so into his reenactment of the end of The Chamber of Secrets that several first graders were clinging to each other and scooting backward as a snake sock puppet dived repeatedly at the Harry Potter sock puppet.
“I don’t think now’s a good time to ask him,” Amelia observed.
Belinda shrugged and pulled up the database. “So, what are we looking for?”
“Why don’t we look for Oscar Kerr first?” Sloane shuffled through her notes. “Try 1920, 1930, 1940, and 1950.”
Belinda did as she asked. “Looks like he and his mom were still living in Wauseon in 1920. However, by 1930, his mom was dead and Oscar was married to someone named Shirley. He must have been doing really well for himself because they lived in the Old West End, which was pretty fancy back then. Um, in 1940, they were still living there and had a one-year-old son named Johnny. And then—uh-oh. By 1950, things had gotten a lot worse for everyone. Oscar was dead, and Shirley and Johnny Kerr were living in a pretty shabby part of town.”
“Can you see what year Oscar died?” Amelia leaned over Belinda’s shoulder. Bunny put his paws up on the table and tried to figure out what was so fascinating about the computer.
Belinda switched to a different database. This one had birth, marriage, and death records. “Wow. Not long after the census was taken in 1940, actually. Looks like he died on October eighth, 1940. Dude, that’s sad. His dad died before he could see Oscar grow up, and then Oscar died before he could see his son grow up.”
Sloane’s throat closed tight at that, but she pushed back at the wave of sadness it made her feel. “Can you see who was staying at the Hotel Waldorf in 1940?”
“Not if they just stayed there for a night or two. But back then, lots of people would move into a hotel and stay there for months or even years. That way, someone else could do all of the cooking and cleaning.” Belinda went back to the census’s page, printed off the list of occupants for 1940, and gave it to them. “If you need anything else, let me know.”
With that, she and Bunny walked off to shelve books. It didn’t take very long for Sloane to find what they were looking for.
“A-HA!” Sloane jabbed her finger at the page. “Amelia—”
“Wait!” The other girl held up her phone so she could record. “Go!”
It was a little unnerving to know she was being filmed. Sloane hoped she didn’t look too weird. “You were right! In 1940, Charles Forrester Hoäl was living at the Hotel Waldorf!”
Amelia was so excited that she dropped the phone. With a squeak, she picked it up, almost dropped it again, and then managed to get a good grip on it.
Trying to sound as intelligent as she could for the camera, Sloane said, “What if Thomas managed to get a message to Beatrice back in 1887, telling her where he’d hidden the jewels? What if she wouldn’t touch them because they were stolen and she didn’t think it would be right, no matter how little money she had? What if she didn’t tell anyone because she wanted to try to pretend Thomas was innocent? What if she told Oscar about it all on her deathbed? What if Charles Hoäl figured out where Oscar was getting his money—and stole back the jewels? What if there’s evidence of that in these letters?”
“Hey, you’re pretty good at being dramatic.” Satisfied with what she’d filmed, Amelia switched the camera off. Her phone immediately dinged, causing Amelia to groan, “I’ve got to go. It’s Miller-Poe Swim Night. That means we spend an hour doing laps.”
To reinforce how awful it was, she pulled out a swim cap and tugged it on over her bushy red curls.
It made her look like a balding clown.
“At least they can’t lecture you on your stroke if they’re swimming too,” Sloane pointed out.
“HA!” Amelia made a face. “The rest of my family has such amazing breath control that they can lecture me while swimming. The lifeguards always seem pretty impressed. We’ll divide up the letters and read them tonight?”
“Sure. I’ll text you if I find anything especially interesting.”
“Keep an eye out for anyone watching you.” Amelia nodded toward Principal Stuckey, who was back in the cookbook section again.
Seeming to sense Amelia’s and Sloane’s eyes on her, their principal looked up. She smiled and nodded and then went back to reading cookie recipes. Was she really not interested in what they were doing—or was she a good actress?
“Mr. Roth is over there.” Sloane jerked her head toward their teacher as he joined the elementary kids watching Milton’s puppet show. He didn’t even glance their way.
But perhaps he was too smart to let them know that he’d followed them there.
Was it coincidence that both Mr. Roth and Principal Stuckey were there?
Or were one or both of them using Sloane and Amelia to find the jewels?
Amelia shuffled off to meet her watery doom, leaving Sloane behind to worry about this. If she and Amelia did find the jewels, she didn’t want someone else to swoop in and take them away. Especially since that person might do something horrible to the two of them in the process.
“What’s up, Sloane-y Woney?” Mackenzie slid into Amelia’s vacant chair, startling Sloane so badly that she actually yelped. That was the second time the other girl had managed to materialize out of thin air. Maybe she really was an evil witch. “Got anything for me? That bit about Thomas having a son named Oscar was barely enough for half a slide. I need more than that if I’m going to get an A on this project.”
Sloane gaped at Mackenzie, grateful that she still had the letters hidden in her lap. Did she really think that Sloane was going to do all of her research for her?
Apparently so. Mackenzie reached for the stack of printouts. Feeling the heat rush to her face, Sloane snatched them up before the other girl could. She shoved everything into her backpack before Mac could spot the letters too.
“Forget it. You’ve gotten all you’re going to get out of me.” Sloane stood up, pretty sure her eyes were shooting daggers. Just not real ones, unfortunately.
“I was hoping you’d say that. Now I get to break Amelia’s little heart. Anyone can see she thinks you’re her friend. I can’t wait to see her face when she finds out how wrong she is.” Mackenzie stood up too.
Straightening the bow in her hair, she sashayed off.
Sloane’s fingers itched to reach for her phone so she could text Mackenzie and beg her to reconsider, but she refused to let them do it. She had no idea what Mac had planned, but she was positive that the other girl would do it eventually no matter what Sloane did to try to please her.
Privately, she hoped that maybe she’d get lucky and whoever was trying to use them to find the jewels would think Mackenzie found them. Maybe they’d package Mac up and mail her off to Antarctica.
Somehow Sloane doubted it, and she was quite right about this.
When she and Amelia were attacked later that week, Mackenzie Snyder already would be grounded by her parents.
Which was very unlucky for the former Tootie Snyder.
And even less lucky for Sloane and Amelia.