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“But how could your button have fallen off your sweater and rolled into this little hole?” Lauren asked.
“Don’t ask me.” Zoe had managed to wiggle another finger into the hole and brought out the red and purple button. “Yes! And—" she put her fingers in the hole again, “—I felt a bit of paper in there.” She drew out a small white piece of paper. Her mouth parted. “It has writing on it!”
Lauren peered over her cousin’s shoulder. “‘You’re knot getting warmer.’” She read it out slowly. It looked like the same handwriting on the scrap of paper Annie had found under the desk.
“And the scrap of paper we found under the desk drawer said: ‘It’s knot in here.’”
“You’re right,” Lauren replied.
“Another clue!”
They stared at each other.
Zoe tapped her cheek. “So this word knot is spelled the same way in both – k-n-o-t. Which means the nugget must be somewhere there is a knot.”
“I’m with you so far.”
“So,” Zoe said slowly, “there must be something else in the house with a knot on it – or a knot design.”
“Another cabinet?”
They peered at the rest of the wooden cabinets lining the wall of the kitchen, but didn’t find an obvious wood knot on any of them.
“Pooh.” Zoe pouted.
Lauren checked her watch. “We’d better hurry up. I don’t want to be here too long.”
“Okay.” Zoe blew out a breath. “Just a few more minutes?”
“All right.”
“I’ll take the hall and you take the living room again. Maybe we missed something.”
Lauren hurried into the living room, and checked the desk again. No knots. Glancing around the room, she noticed an old fireplace, with a mantel. It had been blocked in, with a vase of dried flowers decorating the small amount of space left.
There was a decorative carving on the mantel, depicting roses – and a knot between two blooms.
‘You’re knot getting warmer.’
Her eyes widened.
“Zoe!” She tried to keep her voice down.
“Did you find something?” Zoe zipped into the room.
“Look!” She pointed at the decoration above the fireplace.
Zoe squinted. “Flowers, and ... a knot!”
She gently ran her fingers along the carving. “I can’t see a hole anywhere, like that one in the kitchen cabinet.”
“Maybe you have to press something!”
Lauren pressed one of the center flowers. Nothing. Then she pressed the knot in the middle. It gave way under her fingertips.
She gasped.
Gingerly, she put two of her fingers into the small hole, hoping she wasn’t going to touch a dead insect – or worse. Instead, something crackled under her fingertips.
“What is it?” Zoe asked.
She drew out a small piece of paper and read out: “‘Too many cookies are not good for you.’”
“The cookie jar – but it was the murder weapon!” Zoe zoomed out of the room.
Lauren followed, noticing that this time not was spelled the usual way, instead of k-n-o-t. Was that significant?
“Are there any other cookie jars in here?” Lauren paced the kitchen, checking everything on the countertops but being careful not to touch.
“What about in the cabinets?” Zoe opened one to find piles of delicate crockery. “Oops, now I have to wipe my prints from the knob.”
A sudden noise alerted Lauren. It sounded like a key turning in the front door. Grabbing her cousin’s arm, she placed a finger on her lips and nodded to the hall.
Zoe’s eyes widened, and she whispered, “We’ve got to skedaddle!”
Spying a back door, Lauren pointed to it.
Zoe nodded, and they ran as quietly as they could.
She winced when the back door creaked open, but didn’t care as she raced outside, Zoe close on her heels.
They were in the neat back garden, filled with green shrubs and a tall tree.
“Keep down,” she advised, bending low.
“I wonder who it was?”
“Maybe Shirley’s children?”
“Yeah, probably,” Zoe agreed.
“There could be a side passage that will take us past the house and onto the street.”
“There!” Zoe pointed to a narrow section of grass that looked like it would lead to the front side of the house.
They ran down it, Lauren hoping they were soundless, and came out at the side of the front garden. She unlocked the waist-high gate, flinching at the rusty noise it made.
“Look, there’s another car!” Zoe pointed to the black SUV parked in front of their vehicle.
“Maybe we shouldn’t have parked right outside.”
“Too late to think about that now.” Zoe hopped from foot to foot while she waited for Lauren to unlock the doors.
She stabbed the key into the lock, not wanting to alert anyone by using the remote that would make a little noise.
“Let’s go!” Zoe snapped on her seatbelt.
Lauren turned on the ignition, hoping the stranger wouldn’t hear the engine. Driving sedately down the road, she ignored her cousin’s suggestion to “floor it.”
“We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves.” She just hoped they hadn’t already.
“I guess you’re right. So – what have we found out?”
“That we shouldn’t enter other people’s houses.” She didn’t want to do that again. A sudden thought hit her. “What did we do with the key we found in the doormat?”
“It’s right here.” Zoe patted her jeans’ pocket. “Pretty nifty – now we’ll be able to look for the next clue whenever we want!”
“No, we are not doing that. And you’ll have to return the key to the doormat – somehow,” she replied firmly. “Besides, there’s someone else there now – with their own key.”
“I wonder who it is?” Zoe tapped her cheek. “Maybe Martha or Mrs. Finch will know – or even Ms. Tobin. We’ll probably find out tomorrow.
“Now we have two more clues. Obviously, the fireplace one is the most important, since the knot in the kitchen cabinet led us to that old fireplace. So, whoever wrote these clues in the first place – maybe Shirley’s great-great-granddad – must have put the next clue in the cookie jar. And the killer grabbed it before hitting Shirley on the head with the jar.”
“Unless there’s another cookie jar we haven’t found.”
By the time they got home, Lauren felt a little calmer, until another thought struck her. She turned to Zoe, paling.
“Your fingerprints are on the front doorknob!”