The Disappearing Friend Mystery Read online

  Henry grinned. “Or at least one of the rooms!” he said as he rang the Millers’ doorbell.

  Mr. Miller was an older man, with a round face and little mustache. He was wearing baggy pants held up by red suspenders, with a red striped shirt to match. He kept his thumbs hooked in the suspenders as he showed the children what he wanted them to do.

  He unhooked one of the thumbs to raise his hand and give the children a little wave as he went back into the house.

  The Millers had marked off a large square piece of level ground in a sunny area of their backyard for the garden. There were shovels, hoes, and pitchforks for breaking up the ground. Benny collected all the rocks and lined the edge of the garden with them. They pulled up clumps of weeds and took out sticks. Then they made long raised rows of dirt, which would be easy to plant in. Between the rows of mounded dirt, they carefully marked paths. With everyone working together, the Aldens and Beth soon had the garden ready for planting.

  As they were working, a truck drove slowly by and then stopped. A wiry little man in faded blue overalls and a blue work shirt leaned out of the window on the driver’s side. He pushed the bill of his cap back and squinted over the fence.

  It was Charlie, the Fix-it man.

  “You kids know what you’re doing?” asked Charlie.

  “Yes, thank you,” said Beth.

  “Gardening can be hard work—especially if you aren’t used to it,” he commented. “Of course I do a lot of it.”

  “With all of us working together, it goes pretty quickly,” Henry said.

  “I guess so.” Charlie jerked his head toward the house. “I usually do the gardening for the Millers,” he said. “Or I used to.”

  “Oh!” said Violet. No one else could think of anything to say.

  “Yep,” said Charlie, looking off into the distance. “See you later.” He leaned back in the window, put the truck in gear, and drove away.

  “Do you think we really are taking work away from Charlie?” asked Jessie.

  “I don’t know,” said Henry, wiping his forehead. It was a very hot day.

  “If the Millers usually have Charlie do their gardening, I wonder why they hired us,” Violet said.

  “Maybe Charlie did something they didn’t like,” Henry suggested.

  Just then Mr. Miller came out onto the back porch and invited the Aldens and Beth in for lemonade.

  “Yes, please!” said Benny quickly.

  “That would be great,” said Henry, propping his shovel against a tree. “We only have a little more to do.”

  But Beth shook her head regretfully. “I have to go. I promised I’d help out at home today, too.”

  “You kids are doing a great job,” said Mr. Miller.

  Beth smiled. “Thank you,” she said. “See you tomorrow,” she told the Aldens. She went around the side of the house toward her bicycle and everyone else went inside for glasses of cold lemonade. It was delicious. Benny had two glasses.

  “Whew,” said Henry as they went back outside. “That’s hot, thirsty work.”

  Violet nodded. “I like gardening, but I’m glad we’re almost through. . . .”

  Her voice trailed off in horror as she looked past Henry at the garden they had so carefully dug.

  All the neat rows had been kicked and shoveled every which way. Rocks and sticks and weeds were scattered all over the garden plot. And the soft, crumbly dirt had been stomped down hard.

  “Oh, no!” cried Jessie.

  “My rocks!” wailed Benny.

  They all ran forward to look more closely.

  “This is awful,” said Violet. “We’ll have to do it all over again.”

  Benny trudged out into the garden and began to pick up rocks.

  “Wait a minute, Benny,” said Henry. “Maybe we can find some clue to who did this. Like footprints.”

  But it was impossible to pick out individual footprints because there were so many and the dirt was so scuffed up.

  Sadly, the Aldens went back to work. As they worked, they talked about who could have done such an awful thing.

  “Why doesn’t someone want us to earn money for the hospital?” wondered Henry.

  “Maybe it was that doctor,” Violet said. “She was very angry about the hospital wing —both times we saw her.”

  “Did she follow us here?” Benny asked.

  “I guess she might have. Or maybe it was Charlie. He may be angry that we’re taking some of the jobs he used to do—like this garden. And he definitely knew we were here.”

  “He was just down the street the day we saw the torn poster,” Violet pointed out.

  “And he was in town when the air was being let out of my tires,” Benny added.

  The children kept working. When they were almost done Jessie said, “You know . . . there’s another person it could be. Have you thought about all the strange things that have happened? They all have something in common.”

  “What do you mean?” Violet asked.

  “Every time something happened, Beth had suddenly left—or disappeared,” Jessie said. “We were in our kitchen having cookies and milk when the supplies were taken, remember?”

  Violet said slowly, “Beth was in my room putting on one of Grandfather’s old blue work shirts.”

  Nodding, Jessie said, “Right. But she was gone for a long time. Then, when we went to buy new art supplies . . .”

  “Beth said she had to go next door and do some errands. When we came out, someone had let the air out of Benny’s bicycle tires,” Henry finished.

  “And whoever ruined the garden did it while we were inside having lemonade,” said Jessie. “And Beth left just before we went inside. Or said she was leaving.”

  “It can’t be Beth,” cried Violet. “I just know Beth wouldn’t do anything like this.”

  “I don’t want to believe it either, Violet,” said Jessie. “But the clues all seem to point to her.”

  “It could have been anybody,” argued Violet. “It’s just a coincidence that makes it look like Beth was the one. Besides, she’s new in town. Why wouldn’t she want us to help with the hospital?”

  “That’s true,” said Henry doubtfully. “But still . . .”

  “Beth’s the one who thought of the helper service, too,” Violet pointed out.

  “It doesn’t make sense,” said Jessie. “But it is possible Beth did all these awful things.”

  “Well,” said Violet stubbornly. “I’m not going to believe it.”

  The Aldens finished the garden in silence, and went home with heavy hearts.

  CHAPTER 8

  What’s Wrong with Beth?

  That evening The Boxcar Helpers got a late night phone call. Jessie answered the phone. “Hello?”

  “This is Gail Jackson. I’m sorry to call you so late,” a woman’s pleasant voice sounded on the phone. “But it’s something of an emergency, and I saw your signs for the helper service.”

  “We’ll help you if we can,” said Jessie.

  “Oh, I hope you can. I need a baby-sitter for Shirley. She’s three. I have a meeting I must attend, and her regular baby-sitter canceled.”

  “I think we can help,” said Jessie. “But let me call you back.”

  She carefully wrote down the time and place of the baby-sitting job, then hung up the phone and turned around to talk to the others.

  “Mrs. Jackson, over on Walnut Street, needs us to baby-sit for her daughter Shirley tomorrow afternoon from one until four-thirty,” she told them.

  “Uh-oh,” said Henry. “I’m weeding Mrs. Paul’s flowerbeds tomorrow afternoon.”

  “And I’m walking the Peterson’s Great Dane,” said Jessie.

  “I don’t think I could baby-sit for a three-year-old by myself,” said Violet.

  They all looked at Benny. “I’m too young,” said Benny. “Aren’t I?”

  “I’m afraid so, Benny,” said Henry.

  “Beth and I could do it together,” suggested Violet.

  “I don
’t know if we should ask her, Violet. She’s been acting awfully strange lately,” said Jessie.

  “I don’t think so,” said Violet stubbornly.

  “Well.” Henry looked thoughtful. “If the two of you were together, what could go wrong?”

  “That’s true,” agreed Jessie.

  “Good,” said Violet. “Then I’ll call Beth and ask her.”

  Violet did just that, and Beth sounded surprised and pleased. “I’ll be there,” she assured Violet.

  Mrs. Jackson was also pleased when Jessie called her back. “I am so glad,” she told Jessie. “Your helper service is a life-saver!”

  The next day, Violet rode her bike over to the Jacksons’. The Jacksons lived on a quiet, shady street near the Aldens. The white house had cheerful blue shutters on the windows, and a big old apple tree out front. Squirrels were running around as Violet pedaled up the driveway.

  Violet propped her bicycle against the garage and turned, laughing, to watch the squirrels scampering about. Just then, Beth came riding up the driveway. She skidded to a halt and sent the squirrels scurrying away in fright.

  Violet was a little surprised, too.

  Beth put her bicycle beside Violet’s then walked with Violet up to the front door.

  “Right on time,” said a firm voice as the front door opened.

  “Hello,” said Violet softly. “I’m Violet Alden, and . . . oh!”

  The woman in the door was tall and thin, and she had bright red hair. She was the angry doctor from the Greenfield Hospital!

  “Hello,” said the woman. “I’m Dr. Jackson.”

  “I’m Beth Simon,” said Beth.

  Violet didn’t know quite what to say.

  As if she could understand how surprised Violet was, Dr. Jackson said, “Come on in. I had to have a baby-sitter, and I didn’t know whom to call. Then I remembered seeing your sign in the flower shop. And, for that matter, seeing the rest of your signs all over Greenfield.”

  “Oh,” said Violet.

  “Your service is a good one,” said Dr. Jackson. “I don’t agree that a new hospital wing is the best idea, but it is better than nothing.” She paused and looked thoughtful. “And I admire people, especially young people, who are willing to work for something they believe in. So I decided to call you.” Dr. Jackson didn’t smile, but she didn’t look so stern now.

  “Th-thank you,” said Violet, still very surprised.

  “This is Shirley,” said Dr. Jackson. A little girl in neat blue denim overalls, with her hair in two fat pigtails, came up to Dr. Jackson and grabbed her hand.

  Violet smiled. “Hello, Shirley.”

  Shirley looked at Violet thoughtfully. “I’m three,” she announced.

  Dr. Jackson smiled. “Shirley just had a birthday,” she explained. “Shirley, this is Beth and this is . . . ?”

  “Violet Alden,” said Violet.

  “Violet,” repeated Dr. Jackson. “They will be staying with you until I come back in a little while. Remember, I told you about that?”

  Shirley nodded solemnly.

  “Good,” said Dr. Jackson. “Now, Beth and Violet, here is a phone number where I can be reached if anything comes up. There’s a snack for Shirley when she gets hungry this afternoon in the kitchen—banana pudding and milk. There are other things, too, if you get hungry, so please make yourselves at home. I’ll be back by four-thirty.”

  Dr. Jackson kissed Shirley good-bye and hurried out the door.

  Violet took Shirley’s hand. “You know, I have a brother a little bit older than you. His name is Benny.”

  Shirley looked at Violet and at Beth. Then she let go of Violet’s hand and sat down on the floor and began to cry.

  “Mammaaa,” howled Shirley.

  “Oh, Shirley. Don’t cry. Your mother will be back in just a little while.”

  “Mammmaa,” cried Shirley louder.

  “Shhh,” said Violet soothingly.

  “Good grief,” said Beth.

  Violet took Shirley’s hand and pulled her to her feet. “You take her other hand, Beth,” she said.

  “Why?” asked Beth.

  “We’ll take her outside in the backyard. If we can get her to play, she’ll forget about her mother and stop crying.”

  In the backyard was a big sandbox full of toys. “Here,” said Violet. “We’ll build sand castles. Would you like to build sand castles, Shirley?”

  Shirley kept crying.

  “Good grief, stop it!” snapped Beth, snatching her hand free from Shirley’s.

  Violet looked at Beth in surprise.

  “What a brat,” said Beth.

  “She’s just scared because her mother’s gone and we’re strangers. If you try to understand, it’s not so hard,” Violet said.

  Beth folded her arms and sat down on the edge of the sandbox. “Well . . . do something.”

  Beth is acting so strangely, thought Violet. Gently she led Shirley into the sandbox. She sat down by her and began to pour sand into the different colored containers.

  Watching Violet, Shirley gradually began to stop crying. Then she was only sniffling. Suddenly, she reached out for a container.

  “Mine,” she said, turning the container upside down to make a square sand tower.

  “Good, Shirley,” said Violet.

  As they played in the sandbox, Violet told Beth about Dr. Jackson and the conversation the Aldens had overheard at the hospital. “We wondered if Dr. Jackson might be the one who didn’t want us to raise money for the hospital,” said Violet. “But it doesn’t look that way, does it? I don’t think she played all those terrible tricks on us, do you?”

  Beth, who had been sitting on the edge of the sandbox watching, folded her arms. “You never know,” she said.

  “Well, I don’t think it is Dr. Jackson,” said Violet. “Are you hungry, Shirley? I think it’s time for your snack.”

  The two girls took Shirley inside for her snack and sat with her. While she ate her banana pudding, Beth and Violet had milk.

  “Can you say banana pudding?” Violet asked Shirley.

  “Nannaning,” said Shirley.

  Violet smiled, then looked up. Beth was staring at her.

  “Is something wrong?” asked Violet.

  Beth jumped. “Wrong? No. Of course not.”

  But Violet couldn’t help but notice how uncomfortable Beth seemed. She wasn’t acting like herself at all.

  Maybe her brothers and sister had been right about Beth, thought Violet. But she didn’t want to believe it.

  Violet was relieved when Dr. Jackson came back, and it was time to go home. Beth said a quick good-bye to Violet and dashed off on her bicycle.

  That night after dinner, Violet told everyone about the baby-sitting job and Dr. Jackson.

  “Dr. Jackson?” asked Grandfather. “I know Dr. Jackson. She speaks her mind. But she is a good doctor, and a good person.”

  “We wondered if she would not like us raising money for the new wing, since she was against building it,” said Jessie. “But it doesn’t look that way now.”

  “No,” said Grandfather. He got up from the dinner table. “I’ll be in my study for a little while.”

  After Grandfather left, Jessie said thoughtfully, “Still, something strange is going on. Maybe it is Beth. You did say she was acting nervous, Violet.”

  “Maybe we shouldn’t be friends with Beth,” said Benny.

  “That’s not fair,” protested Violet angrily. “You can’t just stop being friends with someone. You have to at least give her a chance.”

  Henry nodded. “You’re right, Violet. Besides, the person who’s doing all these mean things could be Charlie the Fix-it Man.”

  “Well,” said Jessie, “I hope we solve this mystery soon. But how are we going to do that?”

  No one had an answer.

  CHAPTER 9

  Two Cats and a Key

  Today we meet Ms. Singh’s cats,” announced Violet. “I can hardly wait.”

  Hen
ry, Violet, Jessie, and Beth were waiting for Benny on the front steps of the big old white house.

  Just then, Benny came hurrying out of the door. “Here I am!” he announced cheerfully.

  “We’re going to feed Ms. Singh’s cats, Benny,” said Jessie.

  “Oh, good,” said Benny, getting on his bicycle. “I like cats. Watch does, too. Don’t you, Watch?”

  Watch barked and began to trot happily alongside Benny’s bicycle as they headed for Garden Street.

  It wasn’t very far away, a pleasant street that lived up to its name.

  “Ms. Singh’s house has an apple tree in the front yard,” said Henry. “She said it’s the only one on the street.”

  “Apples!” exclaimed Benny. “I love apples.” Suddenly he pointed. “There it is.”

  The five children left their bicycles under the apple tree and went around to the back door.

  “Let’s see,” said Jessie. “The key should be under this doormat.” She raised the edge of the mat. But there was no key.

  “Maybe if you lift up the whole mat,” suggested Beth.

  Jessie picked up the mat. There was a clean space, slightly paler than the rest of the step, where the mat had been. But there was no key.

  “That’s funny,” said Violet. “Are you sure Ms. Singh said the key would be under the mat?”

  “Yes.” Jessie frowned. “Maybe I misunderstood her. Maybe it was the front door mat.”

  The Aldens and Beth went around to the front door of the house. But when Jessie lifted the front doormat, no key was under it.

  “Maybe Ms. Singh left the key somewhere else, like in the mailbox,” suggested Beth.

  “I hope so,” said Violet, looking worried. “What if we can’t find the key? We won’t be able to feed the cats.”

  “Oh, no,” cried Benny. “They’ll starve.”

  Henry, who was the tallest, stood on his toes and looked into the mailbox. He reached his hand inside and felt the bottom of the box. “No,” Henry reported. “No key here.”

  “Oh dear,” said Violet. “Do you think she forgot?”

  “Maybe the key slid out from under the mat somehow,” Henry said. “Benny, why don’t you and Violet come with me and we’ll check around the back door.”