The Beekeeper Mystery Read online

  “Hellooo,” called Zelda from her farm. She stood at the fence dressed in her beekeeping gear. “What’s going on?”

  “Walt’s rounding up a swarm,” said Laura.

  “I want to see.” Zelda squeezed through an opening in the fence. “I need to learn how to trap bees.”

  Henry and Walt carried the four old boxes far away from the tree and stacked them on top of each other. “This is the bees’ nice, new home,” Walt said. “They just don’t know it yet.”

  Walt lifted the lid off the top super box. Ten old frames hung inside. Walt handed Henry the peach and said, “Squeeze a few drops of peach juice on the tops of the frames. Then rub some juice outside the box right here.” Walt took a red pen from his pocket and drew a big circle around the hive entrance.

  “I’ll do it,” said Zelda, trying to grab the peach from Henry.

  “Leave the boy be,” said Walt.

  Zelda huffed. “I’m just trying to help.”

  Henry picked up a small stick and poked a hole in the peach. He squeezed drops of peach juice on the frames. A couple of curious bees flew over. Meanwhile, Walt spread the white sheet on the ground in front of the hive. He lifted the top of the sheet and tucked it under the hive entrance like a bib under a chin. “I’m making sort of a bee welcome mat,” he said.

  “Zelda,” called Laura, “we need help.” Laura and Jessie had climbed into the bed of the red truck. They struggled to pull the tarp over the super. Bees buzzed all around. With Zelda’s help, they tied the tarp tight around the super. A few bees were trapped inside. But most flew back to the swarm on the branch.

  “Roundup time,” said Walt, carrying the smoker and big basket to the tree. He set the large basket on the ground under the swarm. Then he gave the swarm a couple of puffs of smoke. The children gasped as Walt grabbed the branch and gave it a few really hard shakes. The clump of bees dropped right down into the basket.

  Moving quickly, Walt carried the basket to the hive. He turned it upside down. The clump of bees fell onto the white sheet. Gently, Walt nudged a few bees up the sheet toward the hive entrance. The bees tasted the sweet peach juice Henry had rubbed on the red circle. Henry held his breath. Would the bees go into the hive or fly away? A few more bees crawled up to the entrance and tasted the juice. Little by little, the swarm moved into the hive.

  “What happens now?” asked Henry.

  “If they’re happy here,” said Walt, “they’ll stay.”

  Laura, Jessie, and Zelda came to watch. “I want that hive,” said Zelda. “After all, that swarm was nearly on my property. And I only have a couple of hives.”

  “You’re a new beekeeper, Zelda,” said Laura. “You still have a lot to learn about keeping bees safe and healthy. You don’t want too many hives so soon.”

  “But you have so many bees,” said Zelda.

  Laura sighed. She could give this swarm to Zelda. But so many bad things could happen to bees—like sickness or attacks by other bees. The list was long. “You’re not ready to care for more bees,” said Laura. “Not until you can raise the ones you already have for one whole year.” She looked around. “Let’s clean up and get back to the shop.”

  As soon as they pulled up to the workshop, they took the tarp off the super. Laura brushed away the few bees left from the swarm. Then Walt carried the super inside. Laura set the tarp on the workbench. Then she went over to the super and lifted out the frames. The honeycombs were still full of honey. “We did it!” she said. “We saved the harvest!”

  Four Eggs-pert Detectives

  They couldn’t harvest the honey until Walt welded a new leg onto the extractor. Henry offered to help, but Walt said, “It’s too dangerous. I’ll have it fixed in about an hour.”

  Henry didn’t mention that Grandfather had taught him how to weld. Back home in Greenfield, Henry was always fixing broken metal things for friends and neighbors.

  Laura said, “I’ll use this hour to start making dough for tonight’s bread. Zelda’s coming over to learn how to make bread. Why don’t the four of you just relax?”

  “Don’t you have a one-hour kind of job we can do?” asked Jessie.

  Laura thought a moment. “Actually, I do.” She grabbed four wire baskets. “I didn’t have time to collect eggs this morning,” she said. “You can fill these. But don’t stack eggs more than four rows high. You don’t want to break the shells.”

  The children walked along the path to the chicken coop. Applewood Farm’s chickens were free-range. They wandered everywhere and anywhere on the farm. Laura said this made for happy, healthy chickens. They laid their eggs in a row of wood cubbies David and Laura had built. The cubbies looked like the ones at Benny’s school. But instead of clothes and books, the Applewood cubbies were filled with chickens and eggs.

  Chickens sat in a few of the cubbies. The rest were empty. Benny quickly went to the empty ones. He found two eggs in the first cubby. He carefully picked them out of the straw nest and set them gently into his basket. The older children began lifting hens off the nests to get to the eggs. As they worked, they talked about the strange things going on at the farm.

  “Wait, wait, wait,” said Jessie. She put down her basket and took out her small notebook and pen. Jessie read them the list she’d written.

  The fence near the beehives was cut.

  Four frames were missing from the super.

  Someone ruined the junior beekeeping class flyers.

  Molasses was spilled on the glass honey jars.

  A leg on the extractor was broken.

  Laura’s truck was moved near a swarm of bees.

  “Well,” said Violet, “I know Noah didn’t cut the fence. He’s too afraid of bees to go that close to the hives.”

  “I agree,” said Henry, putting another egg in his basket. “And Walt probably built that fence when this was his farm. He wouldn’t mess up his own work.”

  Jessie sighed. “All right,” she said, “what about the four missing frames?” They tried to think who would have taken the frames full of honeycomb out of Laura’s super. Noah wouldn’t go near bees. Zelda had her own hives. Walt had no reason to take Laura’s frames.

  Henry snapped his fingers. “Remember I told you I found some fence links on the ground?” he said. “One link had a torn piece of white cloth. Whoever it was could have ripped their bee suit on the fence.”

  Jessie twirled a lock of her hair, thinking. “Maybe,” she said, “it isn’t someone from our list. Whoever cut the fence near the hives and stole the frames from the super could’ve driven Laura’s truck to the fence near Zelda’s farm. Maybe they cut that fence to get to Zelda’s hives.”

  “I wonder if Zelda saw anything,” said Henry. “She was near the fence when we found the truck.” He finished the second layer of eggs and started the third. “I wonder why she was dressed in her beekeeping gear. It’s almost like Zelda knew the swarm was there.”

  Violet fluffed the straw in a cubby. She picked out feathers to use in her artwork. “Maybe,” she said, “Zelda had been working with her own bees. That’s why she was wearing her gear.” The ten-year-old always tried to find the best in people.

  “You know what’s strange?” said Jessie. “Yesterday Zelda kept asking Laura to teach her about swarms. Then today there’s a swarm right near Zelda’s farm.” Jessie checked her notes and sighed. “There’s still the molasses on the jars, the ruined flyers, and the leg broken off the extractor.” She tapped her pencil on the notepad. Solving a mystery was like putting pieces of a puzzle together. Jessie tried to think of pieces that seemed out of place. “Does anyone else wonder why Noah works where people raise bees?” she asked.

  Benny jumped back as a hen flew off a nest right in front of him. He lifted out two warm eggs and put them in his basket. “Noah works here,” said Benny, “to earn money for school. He told me this farm is close to his house so he can bike to work.”

  “Remember yesterday?” asked Henry. “Walt parked the truck at the workshop. Noah sa
id this morning that he didn’t like honeycombs left so close to the gift shop. He was afraid bees would come looking for the honey. That bees would come into the gift shop.”

  Jessie turned to a fresh page in her notebook. “So,” she said, “maybe Noah took the truck and drove it as far away from the gift shop as he could.”

  Violet lifted straw off an egg before setting it in her basket. “Noah’s way too scared of bees to drive a truck full of honeycombs,” she said. Some eggs in her basket were different colors and shapes. “These sure don’t look like the eggs at our grocery store.”

  “Look at this egg,” said Benny. He held up a golf ball.

  “I found a golf ball too,” said Violet.

  “Maybe they hatch into baby golf balls,” said Benny. He put the golf ball back in the cubby. He would ask Laura about it later.

  “What about Walt?” Jessie said. “He doesn’t trust us working with the bees. Maybe he’s doing things to stop Laura from teaching beekeeping to other children.”

  Henry set a fourth row of eggs into his basket. “Walt doesn’t like having a lot of people around,” he said. “This farm was probably quiet when he owned it. He didn’t have children running around. He didn’t have a gift shop full of customers. He didn’t give beekeeping classes.”

  Henry set down his full basket. He picked up Jessie’s and went to a new row of cubbies. “Walt wants things the way they used to be,” he said. “But he never would have left Laura’s truck where a swarm could steal the honey.” Henry came to a large hen sitting on a nest. She looked at Henry and clucked. He slowly slid his hands under the hen and lifted her off. She pecked his arms a few times. “Sorry,” he said, setting her on the ground. She walked away, clucking. Henry collected three eggs for Jessie’s basket.

  The children were quiet as they finished their work. Maybe Jessie’s theory was right. And if someone stole from Applewood once, they could come back and steal again. If it continued, Laura might have to cancel her junior beekeeping class. She wouldn’t want to put children at risk. Now more than ever, the Alden’s wanted to solve the mystery. They had to work fast. Grandfather would return in a few days to take them back home.

  In the kitchen, Laura and Zelda were setting their bread dough into bowls. Laura laughed when the children returned with all four baskets filled with eggs. “You are ‘eggs-pert’ egg gatherers!” she said. She saw how serious they looked. “What happened?” she asked. They told her their idea about someone stealing honey.

  “I haven’t heard about thefts near here,” said Laura. “Zelda, have you heard anything like that?”

  “Uh-uh,” said Zelda, suddenly busy washing their bread-making tools.

  Laura looked thoughtful. “You never know,” she said. “I’ll call the sheriff to see if other beekeepers are missing hives.”

  By the time the children washed up, Laura had talked to the sheriff. “So far,” she said, “no hives have been reported missing. I told him about the four frames someone stole from me. I’ll email my beekeeping friends and tell them to keep their eyes open.”

  Walt walked into the kitchen. “Extractor’s fixed and ready to go,” he said. “That is, if anyone here wants to harvest some honey.”

  “I do!” Benny jumped up and raced out the door. Everyone laughed and followed close behind. But, once again, the speedy six-year-old was first to arrive at the workshop.

  The Spinning Spaceship

  Benny burst into the workshop and skidded to a stop. A shiny metal barrel gleamed in the middle of the room. It sat on three legs like a spaceship ready to blast off. Except this spaceship had a crank handle on the side like Benny’s old jack-in-the-box. He wondered if something would pop up if he turned the handle.

  Henry walked in with Walt. “Is this the extractor?” asked Henry, running his hand over the barrel. Walt nodded. Henry knelt to see how Walt had attached the new leg. “This is a nice weld.”

  Walt hooked his thumbs in his overalls. “You know about welding?” he asked.

  “Grandfather taught me,” said Henry. “Of course, I’m not as good as you, but I’m getting better.” Walt raised one bushy eyebrow and grunted. Henry thought it sounded like a good grunt. One that meant Walt might be getting used to having kids around.

  Laura and Zelda were the last to arrive. Zelda stayed near the door. “Okay,” said Laura, “this is the day every beekeeper waits for! Today we’re harvesting honey—taking the honey out of the honeycombs. It’s called extracting. I’ll write that on the whiteboard later. But first…” Laura reached into her pocket and pulled out a handful of little wax candy bottles. “Take some,” she said.

  “I love these!” said Violet, picking two purples.

  “Who knows what keeps the syrup inside these bottles?” asked Laura.

  “Wax!” cried Benny, taking a blue and a yellow.

  “Right,” said Laura. “And how do you get the syrup out?”

  Henry took two greens. “I bite off the cap,” he said. Henry bit off the wax cap and sucked out the sweet liquid.

  “Beekeepers call that uncapping,” said Laura. “Today, we’re uncapping the wax on the honeycombs to get out—to extract—the honey inside.”

  “Oh no,” said Benny, looking worried. “Do we have to bite off all the honeycomb caps?”

  “That’s ridiculous,” said Zelda, making a sour face. “That would be very slow and very messy.”

  Laura smiled at Benny. “We have a better way to uncap the wax.” She waved Zelda over. “Come watch.”

  Zelda leaned against the wall near the door. “I’ll stay here. I don’t want to crowd your students.”

  Laura lifted a frame out of the white super. The honeycomb in the frame was covered with pale-white wax. She walked to a small table and picked up a long, flat knife with an electrical cord. “Beekeepers use all kinds of uncapping tools,” she said. “Walt uses this hot knife.”

  Walt took the knife's cord and plugged it into an outlet.

  “I don’t understand,” said Violet. “If we cut off the caps—um, if we uncap the honeycomb—won’t the honey spill out?”

  “Good question,” said Laura. “The honey’s too thick to spill right away, but we still need to work fast.” She walked to a large, plastic tub with a wood board across the middle. “Some honey sticks to the wax caps. It’s pretty messy, so we work over this uncapping tank.”

  Walt carried the frame to the tank and stood it up on the board. He slowly slid the hot knife down the honeycomb, removing the wax caps. The sheet of wax curled off the comb like ice cream curling in a warm scoop. When Walt finished, the wax fell into the tank. Golden honey glistened inside the uncapped honeycomb. Walt turned the frame around and uncapped the other side. Then he put the frame into the extractor. The children looked inside the metal drum. It had six slots to hold six frames.

  “This is our old extractor,” said Laura. “We have to crank it by hand. Walt will use our electric extractor over in the corner. It’s easier but not nearly as much fun. Now,” she said, “it’s your turn to uncap.” She handed the children small rollers with handles. Rows of metal needles stuck out of the rollers like quills on a porcupine.

  Henry held the handle and spun the roller. “This looks like the little paint rollers we used to paint our milk carton birdhouses,” he said. “Except our rollers didn’t have needles.”

  “It will be too dangerous for my junior beekeeping class to use the hot knife,” said Laura. “But this great little tool works fast. I’ll show you.” She lifted another frame onto the board over the uncapping tank. She rolled the spiky roller up and down the honeycomb. The metal needles quickly poked holes in the wax caps.

  Zelda crossed her arms, muttering, “This is going to take forever!”

  But, in less than a minute, Laura uncapped every cell on both sides. She set the frame in the extractor. “Your turn,” she said.

  Henry set a new frame on the uncapping tank. Benny pushed his spiky roller up and down the honeycomb. He felt the spikes poke
through the wax. Violet rolled the other side. When all the cells were uncapped, Jessie put the frame in the extractor. Then they all changed jobs, so they could have a turn doing everything.

  Laura noticed Zelda near the door. “Don’t you want to try?” she asked.

  “No,” said Zelda, yawning. “I can see how it’s done. I’ll go check on our bread.” She walked out of the workroom.

  The children glanced at each other. Zelda was usually so eager about everything they tried to do. Why was she walking out on the most exciting part?

  When they put the last frame into the extractor, Laura asked, “Who wants to turn the handle?”

  “Me!” said Benny. He grabbed the handle on the side of the spaceship. Benny pushed the handle around and around. Little by little, the frames inside the metal drum began spinning around like horses on a merry-go-round. As they spun, honey flew out of the honeycombs, spattering all over the inside of the drum.

  “It’s like the Spinning Art booth at the fair,” said Violet.

  “Never heard of it,” muttered Walt.

  “It’s so fun!” said Violet. “You squiggle paint on a spinning canvas. All the colors spin out, just like this honey is spinning out from the combs.”

  Laura noticed Benny tiring. “Time to switch,” she said.

  As they worked, Walt uncapped all the other honeycombs and put them into the big electric extractor. With a push of a button, the electric extractor began spinning.

  “That looks a lot easier,” said Benny, rubbing his sore arm.

  Laura set a big white bucket on the floor under the extractor. She covered the bucket’s top with a strainer. “Henry,” she said, “would you turn that spigot at the bottom of the extractor?” Henry turned the tiny faucet and honey flowed out. The strainer’s tiny holes caught bits of honeycomb wax but let the honey flow through.

  When the bucket was full of honey, Laura set it on the edge of a table. Glass honey jars were lined up and ready. “Here’s what you’ll do next,” said Laura, holding a jar under the bucket’s spigot. As she turned the spigot, honey flowed into the jar. She stopped when the jar was full. Then she screwed a lid on top of the jar and cleaned off any drips. Finally, Laura stuck an Applewood Farm honey label on the jar.